Swinging Pendulum
by cywscross
Summary: "Too dangerous to live," Central 46 declares. Locked up in Muken with half-healed wounds and helpless rage, Ichigo gets another chance to save his fellow Visored when the Spirit King whisks him away and offers him a deal. He accepts and promptly gets his ass dumped in the past. Like, WAY back in the past. Ichigo really should be used to impossible things happening to him by now.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Bleach.**

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**General Warnings:** AU, GEN, Time/Dimension Travel, Ichigo-centric, violence, language.

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**Summary:** "Too dangerous to live," Central 46 declares. Locked up in Muken with half-healed wounds and helpless rage, Ichigo gets another chance to save his fellow Visored when the Spirit King whisks him away and offers him a deal. He accepts and promptly gets his ass dumped in the past. Like, WAY back in the past. Ichigo really should be used to impossible things happening to him by now.

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**Author's Notes:** This fic is written for **Rikkamaru**, who piqued my interest with this Bleach time travel plot so much that I couldn't leave it alone.

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**Chapter 1**

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_"Ichigo, listen ta me – if ya find a way out, take it. Don't come back for us, ya hear?"_

_ "I can't do that!"_

_ "Yes ya can, and ya will! For once in your life, kid, don't be a hero!"_

_ "I'm not trying to be a hero! But what kinda person would I be if I left you guys behind?!"_

_ "A sane one. I mean it, Ichigo. Ya got a long life ahead o' ya; don't go wastin' it on has-beens like us. We've lived long enough; we've had centuries. _You've _barely lived two decades."_

_ "Like that fucking matters! I'm not letting those Central 46 bastards execute you!"_

_ "For god's sakes, we've been clapped in chains and ya can't even sit up straight! Now is not the time to worry about anyone else! Shit, the least they coulda done was get ya a healer first. You're gonna bleed out at this rate."_

_ "Hey, I'm not the only one- the only one injured here, you hypocrite."_

_ "I'm not critically injured; there's a difference, idiot. Dunno what the hell ya were thinkin' when ya ran ahead ta fight Aizen. Ya shoulda known ya'd be seriously wounded after ya killed him."_

_ "As if I knew Central 46 was going to- to send in Shinigami to _arrest_ me afterwards! Soul Society is really- is really fucked up."_

_ "You're tellin' me. It's run by corrupt bastards after all. ...Ichigo? Oi, stay awake. No sleepin'. Didn't know ya still needed naptime at this age."_

_ "Screw you, Shinji. 'm just resting my eyes. For a while. I'll be fine. When I wake up, I'll get us all outta here, 'kay?"_

_ "Not okay. Stay awake, Ichigo, ya hear me?"_

_ "Mm..."_

_ "Hey, ya-"_

_ "Hirako Shinji, you are to come with us."_

_ "Tch, do we get at least a farce of a trial this time or are ya people gonna skip right on ta the execution?"_

_ "You and the other... Visored will be treated as Hollows. There is no need for a trial."_

_ "No! You can't-"_

_ "Ichigo, shut up and stay still! Ya look out for yourself, ya understand? Don't do anythin' stupid!"_

_ "Do not worry, Hirako. He won't have that opportunity. As acknowledgement towards his final efforts in killing Aizen, Central 46 has decided that he will be incarcerated instead of executed."_

_ "What kinda fucked up acknowledgement is that?! Death is better, ya thrice-damned Shinigami!"_

_ "Shinji! You-"_

_ "Ichigo, remember what I said; don't ya dare-"_

**{1}**

Ichigo opened his eyes.

The wooden ceiling stared back at him.

It took him a moment to register the sunlight streaming in through the curtains and the fact that, had he still been in Muken, light would've been the last thing reaching him.

For a long minute, he didn't move, allowing the memories of darkness and desperation and hopelessness fade into the back of his mind.

He simply concentrated on breathing.

It had come as something of a surprise when Ichigo had finally succumbed to the welcome pull of painless oblivion after who knew how long only to hear the echo of a smooth rumbling voice in his ear, edged with power but somehow giving no sense of danger.

Ichigo hadn't been able to see anything; he hadn't even been sure if his eyes had been open at the time, but the voice had introduced itself as the Spirit King, something Ichigo had only heard of in passing from Aizen and Kisuke.

_"Balance must be maintained. Central 46 has overstepped its bounds. I myself am no longer in any position to put a stop to it. However, I can give you another chance, a chance to save your Visored friends. But in return, I require your assistance._

"_Soul Society must not be allowed to drown in its own prejudice and laws once again. If the Spiritual World is to continue to flourish, changes must be made. Shinigami cannot remain strong if they do not accept change. Visored or Arrancar or even Quincy, there will be no future if the Shinigami continue solving their problems by killing all of them and vice versa._

"_This is where you come in, Kurosaki Ichigo. I have witnessed your potential for growth, and I approve of your tolerant disposition towards Shinigami, Hollows, and Humans alike. Because of this, I will trust your judgement. I will grant you one chance; any changes are yours to make. But make them you must, and I pray you make the right ones."_

And without so much as a by-your-leave, Ichigo had abruptly jolted awake the next second, shooting upright and finding himself sitting in a bed not his own, his Zanpakutou beside him, and both Zangetsu and Shiro's voices back inside his head where they belonged.

Ichigo had been completely bewildered at first. It hadn't taken long to realize that he was still in Seireitei, but he was definitely not in the Fourth or any of the other division barracks that he was familiar with so that ruled out the arrest and Muken and watching Shinji and the other Visored being dragged away and the Spirit King's voice all being just a nightmare.

Ichigo had cautiously ventured out of the room he had been in, Zanpakutou sheathed but hand wrapped securely around its hilt. He'd almost gaped when he had stepped into the hallway and promptly found himself in the midst of at least several dozen Shinigami, all bustling about with books or scrolls or Zanpakutou of their own.

Ichigo had hastily retreated back into his room after that, wondering if perhaps Aizen had done something to him in the final battle and he was stuck in some sort of illusion, but illusions usually made a person forget the more important things, and Ichigo could remember every detail of the war perfectly fine.

Halfway through his mini panic attack and agitated pacing (in a room with three beds, not one, but with seemingly only one set of books and other necessities stacked in drawers and shelves), he had caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror and found his reflection wearing the same white and blue attire as the male Shinigami he had seen outside instead of his usual black.

He had tried asking Zangetsu and Shiro what was going on but both had only known as much as he had. Of course, Ichigo hadn't been so clueless as to not recognize the Shinigami Academy uniform once he had calmed down. Renji and Rukia had provided him with an overview once when they had been giving him a proper tour of Seireitei.

Except, last he'd checked, Shin'ou Academy had been destroyed in one of Aizen's raids.

But it wasn't as if he would've been able to get his answers by staying inside the room so ichigo had gone outside again, not missing the adoring looks from some of the students and the equally antagonistic sneers from others. They obviously knew him well enough to pick him out from a crowd.

When he had finally made his way out of the Academy and into the courtyard out front, he had found Seireitei in all of its unmarred glory, looking like it had never seen hide or hair of Aizen's army.

Another half hour of inwardly hyperventilating, carefully recalling his last moments before he had blacked out and the so-called Spirit King's words, and meticulously turning what looked to be his dorm room upside-down later, Ichigo had dug up name tags tucked inside the other two sets of uniforms in the closet, a class schedule with his name written on top, and a selection of course books and scrolls that also had his name written inside them in his familiar semi-neat scrawl.

They had all read 'Shiba Ichigo'.

Technically, if his dad hadn't been in hiding, Ichigo would've grown up with the surname Shiba instead of Kurosaki. He hadn't though so it had been somewhat strange to see his name connected to his father's Clan name, but that had been the least of his worries.

Ichigo wasn't stupid, no matter what some people thought. The Spirit King had told him that he would be granted a second chance, and at the time, in a small part of his mind that hadn't felt hazy and half-asleep, he had thought that the King had meant that Shinji and the others hadn't been dead yet, and that he would free Ichigo so that he'd be able to save them.

Clearly, Ichigo had misunderstood.

His digging had also turned up a lunch invite slipped inside one of his books. He had been more perplexed than anything else when he had read the message.

'_Morning, cousin! Join me for lunch today, okay? I'll swing by at noon to pick you up. Your favourite big bro, Kaien^_^'_

Ichigo had stared uncomprehendingly at the note for a good two minutes before putting it down and checking the clock on the wall. It had read eleven-forty-five.

Now, some things did tend to fly over Ichigo's head from time to time but he had been fairly certain that he was the eldest in the family and that he didn't have any brothers, older or otherwise.

However, he did have a famous dead cousin by the name of Shiba Kaien, older brother to Kukaku and Ganju.

And if the note was real and Ichigo wasn't dreaming, then it meant that the son of a bitch Spirit King had dumped his ass _in the past_.

Ichigo could move pretty fast when he wanted to (which, considering the war, that had been most of the time) so he had flown around his room and shoved everything back in their proper places in the span of ten minutes, a little messier than before but nothing he couldn't work around or clean up later.

He had been giving his room a last once-over just as a knock sounded at his door, and when he had opened it, he had found himself staring at an almost lookalike of himself. The only differences had been the hair and eye colour, the half-inch of height that the other man had had on him, and the good-natured grin on Kaien's face.

"_Yo, cousin! Ready to go?"_

After that day, Ichigo had vowed to stay away from Shiba Kaien as much as possible from that point onwards. The guy wasn't as hyper as Isshin was but he definitely had that Shiba exuberance that everyone except Ichigo seemed to have inherited. Ichigo had always been all frowns and the occasional smile or laugh ever since his mother had died. Every Shiba he had ever met (granted, that was just Kukaku and Ganju, along with his father and sisters) had all been much more cheerful overall.

Kaien had been no exception, talking to Ichigo like they had known each other since forever. The older man hadn't seemed to mind that Ichigo had only answered with grunts, nods, and a sparse handful of stilted sentences.

But the lunch had been informative since Kaien had, on the way back to the Academy, asked Ichigo if he was doing alright since he had entered the Academy two weeks prior, and Ichigo had managed to subtly glean a few facts from his cousin such as how Kaien had apparently found him in one of the outer districts in Rukongai about two months ago, grievously injured and unconscious but looking so much like Kaien that Ichigo had just _had_ to be a Shiba, and that had apparently been how he had been inducted into the Clan as a long-lost cousin.

Ichigo had already had his Zanpakutou with him though – in its sealed state of course – so Kaien had signed him up for the Academy as soon as Ichigo had been back on his feet, much to Kukaku's disapproval who, Kaien had told him with a conspiratorial wink, had enjoyed doting on Ichigo when Ichigo had woken up confused and conveniently amnesic.

Ichigo had bade his cousin a quiet goodbye after that, ducked away from the hair-ruffling and hug that Kaien had attempted to glomp him with, and then returned to his room and tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he was now in the past.

Like, _way_ in the past. At least a century because Ichigo had picked up Hirako Shinji's distinctive reiatsu signature when they had passed by the Fifth earlier.

It had taken everything he had not to storm that place and make sure that the Visored – future Visored? – was okay. It was probably lucky that he hadn't picked up Aizen's reiatsu as well or he might've snapped and gone after the traitor right then and there.

And now here he was, three and a half months after that lunch date and still struggling to adjust to this new world. For all that he had been a regular visitor to Soul Society since saving Rukia that first time – and a resident of the place since the start of the war – it was a whole other matter to actually attend school and interact with his peers and not give anything away.

The last was actually not that hard. Ichigo had quickly discovered that half the school idolized him for his connections to his genius cousin and the Shiba Clan, and the other half hated him for the same things. As a result, none of them had been all that interested in genuinely befriending him.

That was alright in Ichigo's books. At this point, he had no desire to befriend anyone either.

And while he had thought it to be somewhat unfair, Ichigo was also grateful for his ties to a Clan because it gave him a few benefits, such as his very own room even though it was big enough for three. Ichigo had taken to setting up a privacy seal to soundproof the place – it was about the only bit of Kidou he could manage (along with some very basic healing) since it had been a requirement anytime an impromptu meeting had had to be held in Hueco Mundo – because there were times he still woke up screaming from nightmares of blood and death and the claustrophobic darkness of Muken.

On the other hand, there were also quite a few downsides, the worst being the way his teachers all compared him to Kaien, which consequently turned some of the other students against him with insults and jeers. Ichigo didn't really mind too much – it was really more of an annoyance than anything else – but he did wish that they would stop. From what he had learned once upon a time courtesy of Kukaku and Ganju, Kaien was not a show-off or an arrogant snob; he was the exact opposite – hardworking and kind to the people around him, and disliked standing out – which only served to frustrate Ichigo even more because he knew that if Kaien ever caught wind of the flak that he was taking because of the older Shinigami's reputation, his cousin would not be happy. Kaien already seemed ridiculously protective of Ichigo for some reason and looked out for him in his own exasperatingly sociable way; Ichigo didn't want to give Kaien any reason to get upset on his behalf.

But other than the school drama around him, the Academy was mostly _very_ boring.

The school taught four main subjects: Zanjutsu, Hohou, Hakuda, and Kidou, along with some history, mathematics, and the art of filling in paperwork properly (Ichigo had very nearly laughed when he had seen this, though its proper name was 'Professional Office Duties').

There was less than nothing that the teachers at the Academy could teach him about the first three. Ichigo was one hundred percent certain that he could take out every instructor inside the school with one hand tied behind his back and blindfolded. He was already at captain level and was even stronger than most captains, present _and_ future, not to mention he had been taught Shunpo by the Goddess of the Flash herself. Even the accelerated classes did nothing to alleviate his boredom, especially since he had to tone it down several hundred notches; he was already powerful enough when he was holding back.

Mathematics was a breeze; he _had_ worked hard back in high school before the war, and had, at Ishida's urging, kept up with his studies between skirmishes after the war had started.

And filling in paperwork – pointless crap like duplicates of past mission reports and income statements – was nothing new. War, instead of putting paperwork on hold, actually generated _more_ of the cursed stuff, and whenever Ukitake had been bedridden and Rukia had been swamped by mountains of it, Ichigo had graciously lent a hand. And then Shunsui had unfortunately found out and added _his_ workload to Ichigo's pile, claiming that Ichigo had to do at least some of it since the captain was teaching him how to wield his dual blades more effectively.

(Ichigo had later retaliated by spitefully pouring all of the man's sake down the drain, much to the utter delight of both Lisa and Nanao. Regrettably, this had only earned Ichigo an ass-kicking during their next sparring session; for such a lazy guy, Kyouraku Shunsui was no pushover, and was a shockingly dedicated mentor after Ichigo had managed to convince the man to teach him.)

So really, the only challenging courses that Ichigo could look forward to were history and the Kidou classes.

He had always liked history so that at least kept him decently occupied. Kidou on the other hand made him want to yank his hair out.

That privacy seal that Kisuke had taught him? It had literally taken Ichigo an entire three months to learn it. Granted, it was a fairly tricky bit of Kidou, especially since he had never been taught the basics, but _still_. Everything else came easily enough to him when he worked hard enough at it so it had been beyond aggravating when Kidou simply didn't work out as naturally for him.

And his father had even had the gall to tell him that Kidou was something that Shibas in general excelled at. Renji and Rukia certainly hadn't helped when they had sat on the side and laughed at him.

But learning that one seal had at least given him enough of a handle on controlling his reiatsu to seal his Zanpakutou and hide his reiatsu signature from those around him so Ichigo had been somewhat mollified when he had finally succeeded at the end of the three months.

Still, it didn't help him now whenever the instructor told him to pull off a low-levelled Kidou.

_You have too much reiatsu_, Kisuke had sighed more than once. _The lower-levelled Kidou spells will never come easily to you simply because your reiatsu is too powerful to contain within the weaker spells. Normally, stronger reiatsu make the spells themselves stronger, but your reiatsu only overwhelms them and makes them explode._

Ichigo had asked what he should do.

_Stick to the harder ones,_ Kisuke had advised with a cheerful snap of his fan. _Or better yet, don't use them at all. Knowing you, you're more likely to take out your own hand than hit what you're aiming at._

Yeah, like that was _at all_ helpful.

Ichigo's instinctive scowl deepened as his thoughts took a darker turn down memory lane. He didn't like thinking about the past – future – too much. It inevitably led to remembering his old friends.

At least half of them had died. His father and sisters had gone the same way, though that had been almost three years ago now, and the memory of it was more of a deep-seated ache in his chest than the choking agony that had gripped his heart for months afterwards. His old man should actually be alive right now but Ichigo hadn't been able to bring himself to swing by the Shiba compound even though Kaien had tried numerous times to coax him 'home' for dinner.

He had gotten rather adept at not thinking about the other timeline. It helped a little. During the war, whenever his mood teetered on the brink of depression, he would throw himself into battle and fight and fight until he had exhausted himself to the point where he had just been too tired to think. Unohana hadn't been happy about it, to put it mildly, citing mental and physical health issues, but it wasn't as if she had been able to do anything about it either; Ichigo had been one of their strongest fighters and nobody had been able to afford him taking any downtime.

Now was no different, but instead of life-and-death battles, Ichigo concentrated on his studies. He was fairly certain that the librarians at the Seireitei Library all recognized him by now, and not just because he was Shiba Kaien's cousin. He had taken to holing up there to avoid migraine-inducing fans, irritating bullies, and Kaien (who always insisted on being open and friendly and trying to cajole Ichigo into being more social).

Hiding out in the library worked amazingly well. Kaien hardly ever thought to look for him there, and when he did, the place was big enough for Ichigo to sequester himself away in a dusty corner without anyone the wiser.

He avoided thinking about things like Aizen and what the hell he was going to change and not change as well. The Spirit King had implied that Visored were needed so that was one thing Ichigo couldn't really do anything about, especially since if he managed to save Shinji and the others from being Hollowfied, Aizen would undoubtedly find another group of unsuspecting Shinigami to experiment on, and that would throw everything out of whack, leaving Ichigo with a completely unpredictable future to deal with. What's more, Shinji had once confessed to Ichigo that being a Visored really wasn't so bad, especially since the power boost coming from his Hollow powers had saved many a life including their own time and time again.

So Ichigo would leave that alone. Besides, there wasn't much he could do about anything at this moment. Graduating should be his first order of business, and nothing truly disastrous had really kicked off until around four years from now.

Ichigo shifted when a knock came at the door, automatically cancelling the Kidou spell as he involuntarily tensed, ready to move at a moment's notice. He didn't recognize the reiatsu signature outside.

Rolling out of bed, he padded to the door, opening it to find a fellow student shifting nervously from foot to foot in front of him. She was a full head and a half shorter with dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and a katana tucked through a sash around her waist.

Her eyes widened when she caught sight of him, and for a moment, she seemed lost for words, looking terrified and self-conscious at the same time.

There were students like these too, the shyer ones who kept their heads down and didn't really speak to students on the higher rungs of the political or social ladder.

Ichigo mentally heaved a sigh and cursed Kaien for inadvertently putting him in situations like this before prompting bluntly, "What is it?"

The girl actually jumped a bit before ducking into a low bow and stammering out, "G- Good afternoon, Shiba-dono. I- I'm not sure if you've been informed b- but Koyonagi-sensei has assigned me some extra tutoring sessions with- with you for- for Zanjutsu. He told me to give you this."

Cheeks flushed with palpable embarrassment, the girl thrust a small piece of paper forward, gaze focused anywhere but Ichigo.

Ichigo's eyebrow twitched in annoyance as he snatched up the note and scanned it. As far as he could remember, he had never agreed to tutor anyone.

'_Shiba-kun, consider this extra credit. Your Kidou instructor tells me that you're not up to par in her class but, having reviewed your progress in the rest of your courses, I believe it would be a shame if you did not graduate early because you lacked the marks in that one area. Continue working hard at your Kidou and tutoring this student will make up for any deduced marks. ~ Koyonagi Senzo.'_

Ichigo gritted his teeth and forced down the urge to Bankai Koyonagi's ass to kingdom come.

Koyonagi Senzo was the Zanjutsu branch head at the Academy, and the man had unfortunately caught Ichigo wiping the floor with his classmates during his first week at school. Koyonagi had instantly hauled Ichigo away for a few practical tests and had quickly come to the conclusion that Ichigo was just as much – if not more so – of a genius as Kaien and Ichimaru Gin (who had graduated five years ago in the span of one year).

After that, Ichigo hadn't been able to escape the man's persistent resolve in getting him to realize his full potential and graduate in a year as well, two on the outside. It was lucky for Koyonagi that Ichigo had absolutely no intention of sticking around in the Academy for more than one year; he'd die of boredom otherwise.

Still, he was convinced he could pass his Kidou course perfectly fine without tutoring someone for 'extra credit' but he wouldn't put it past Koyonagi to slap him with something even more irritating. The older Shinigami was forever going on about how Ichigo had to get out more. Ichigo wasn't sure whether Koyonagi liked him or hated him what with the man's continued efforts at pushing Ichigo to do his best. It certainly made Ichigo's life harder since he was trying to _hide_ his best.

Outwardly, he exhaled with a wordless grumble that made the girl in front of him flinch. He rolled his eyes, not in any mood to coddle her as he asked impatiently, "What's your name then?"

The girl squeaked a little before stuttering out, "I- I'm Fujiwara Asuka. I- It's an honour to make your acquaintance, Shiba-dono."

Ichigo grimaced at the formality. Was this what his cousin and people like Byakuya and Yoruichi have to put up with? He wasn't even out of the Academy yet for god's sakes! "Right, well, first things first – if I'm gonna tutor you, you have to drop that ridiculous suffix, okay?"

The girl, Fujiwara, looked a bit horrified but nodded meekly and intoned, "Sh- Shiba-san then."

Ichigo sighed. Well, he supposed that was moderately better. Inoue and a few others had once called him something along those lines too back in the day. Or... _would_ call him that one day.

Whatever.

"And second rule," He continued, glowering down at her. "Could you at least look at me while we're talking?"

Fujiwara reddened and hastily raised her head, barely meeting his eyes before her gaze dropped back to the floor again.

Ichigo ran a hand through his hair. Wonderful. He wasn't good with females in general – Rukia being one of the few exceptions; she had just clicked with him and they had become friends almost instantly – and now he was stuck teaching a girl who would probably prefer to be tutored by someone less... intimidating than Ichigo.

Too bad Ichigo had used up most of his patience during the war. Unless it was patience for leading troops or planning strategy, he really couldn't give enough of a damn to indulge anybody with sympathetic words and meaningless reassurances.

"Alright, when are you free?" Ichigo enquired, deciding to move on. What the hell was Koyonagi thinking sending some shrinking violet of a chick to him? The man should know what Ichigo's personality was like by now.

"U- Um, I- I've set aside Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays in the afternoon if- if that's alright with you?" Fujiwara ended on an upward questioning lilt.

Ichigo mentally went over his schedule. He didn't have anything on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, and more time occupied over the weekend meant less time for Kaien to pester him.

"That's fine," He said curtly. "You need help specifically in Zanjutsu, right?"

He ignored the ashamed wince that wracked the girl's body and waited for an affirmative instead. "Okay then; do you have a particular place you want to hold these sessions in or will anywhere do?"

"..." Fujiwara mumbled inaudibly, face steadily heating up.

Ichigo prayed for patience and hoped he didn't end up emotionally scarring the girl after these extra lessons. "A bit louder please."

Alarms rang in his head when Fujiwara took on an expression that suggested that she might be near tears but at least she managed to force out, "I- I'd prefer s- somewhere private, Sh- Shiba-do- Shiba-san."

Ichigo rubbed a weary hand over his face. "Alright, you know that abandoned training area near the Eighth Division that nobody goes to because it's too swampy? Meet me there at four starting next Tuesday."

Fujiwara jolted a bit, evidently startled. "W- We're leaving school grounds to train?"

"There's no rule against it so long as we're back by curfew, and I plan to make it back for dinner so no worries on that front," Ichigo pointed out. "Besides, you can't get any privacy in the indoor training rooms here; they all have an observation deck attached. The outdoor training areas are even worse; people crossing school grounds can see them anytime. Unless you have a better idea?"

Fujiwara hurriedly shook her head and bowed again. "N- No, Shiba-san. Th- Thank you for agreeing to tutor me. I- I won't be late and- and I'll work hard."

Ichigo grunted and waved a dismissive hand in the air, already turning away. "Whatever. I'll see you later."

He glanced back in time to see the girl flee in a rush of Shunpo. Well, it looked like her Hohou didn't need any assistance.

He sighed once more as he closed the door behind him.

He just knew he was going to regret this. What did he know about teaching anyway? The extent of his experience in that area was helping his sisters do their math homework.

And why the hell had he suggested the swampy training field? It was practically in the Eighth Division's backyard even though it was free for public use.

But Shunsui had trained him there, and the captain's methods had been gruelling yet effective. For such a laidback guy, he had put Ichigo through hell with his workouts, more so than Kisuke or Shinji had ever managed.

So Fujiwara was going to hate him by the end of... well, Ichigo would give her a week. She seemed fairly sweet-tempered in addition to her timidity so she'd probably put up with him for three sessions or so before going to Koyonagi to beg for a tutor change. Ichigo would probably get in trouble for being too harsh but it would be better for Fujiwara in the long run not to get stuck with someone like him.

Nodding decisively, Ichigo retreated into the interior of his room and pulled out his books. He rarely ever got more than a handful of hours of sleep every day, and he tended to snatch naps whenever he felt tired since he could never sleep through the night, so he might as well get started on his homework now.

**{1}**

"Taichou, I have a conundrum," Kaien announced as he meandered into the room where his captain often relaxed with a pot of tea and Kyouraku's company. Sure enough, the Eighth Division captain was sprawled on a tatami mat across from Ukitake on one side of the table, sake and meat buns set out in front of him. Both captains were friendly enough that Kaien felt comfortable being somewhat less formal around them when they weren't in public.

As if on cue, Kyouraku waved lazily at Kaien in greeting, and Kaien sketched a short bow and a grin in return before turning back to his own captain.

Ukitake smiled rather indulgently at him, obviously already knowing what Kaien was going to say. "Yes, Kaien? Is this about your cousin again?"

Yeah, okay, Kaien had been talking on and off about his baby cousin for going on five months now, so sue him. He was worried. After all, how many other long-lost cousins turned up out of nowhere crippled with near-critical injuries and waking up with amnesia? What if Ichigo keeled over from a relapse or something?

Not to mention Kukaku had threatened to behead him if Kaien didn't look out for their newest addition to the family. He was a lieutenant, sure, but nobody in the Shiba Clan defied Kukaku and got away with it when she was in one of her moods.

"Yes, Taichou," Kaien sighed heavily as he took a seat and tried not to sound like he was sulking. "He's avoiding me."

"Well, he doesn't really know you, does he?" Ukitake pointed out gently, but Kaien would have to be blind to miss the amused smile flickering at the corners of his captain's mouth. "He's bound to be a bit wary, though I'm sure you'll wear him down eventually."

Kaien just sighed. "Yeah, I know, but Ichigo's just so... closed off for a Shiba. I mean we're a pretty loud bunch overall. When it comes to Ichigo, I'd consider myself lucky if I can get three full sentences from him in one sitting."

"He didn't grow up with your Clan though," Ukitake reminded him. "He would certainly be different in terms of personality."

Kaien scratched his head. "Yeah, I suppose. I'm just worried. I dropped by the Academy a few days ago and visited one of the instructors. He says Ichigo's pretty isolated, that he doesn't have any friends, and my reputation there doesn't help him at all. Ichigo hasn't complained of course but Koyonagi-san says he's a bit of a loner."

He perked up a bit when he recalled a few other things Koyonagi had revealed. "But Ichigo's also a genius."

Ukitake arched an eyebrow. "Oh? Another one?"

Kaien grinned proudly. "Yeah. Apparently, my cousin's already climbed to the top of the top in Zanjutsu, Hohou, and Hakuda. After Koyonagi-san noticed, he paired Ichigo up with a sixth-year and Ichigo kicked his ass. Koyonagi-san suspects that Ichigo can already unseal his Zanpakutou too but Ichigo hasn't said anything on that. His other studies are advancing at a terrific rate as well. The only thing he has any real problems with is Kidou. Ichigo doesn't have the control for it."

His captain's expression became thoughtful as he shared a glance with Kyouraku. "Will he graduate by the end of the year then? Students are not required to perfect every aspect of the four combat forms before they join the Gotei 13 after all."

Kaien nodded eagerly. "Koyonagi-san's betting on it. He's just working on getting Ichigo to socialize more right now so that he'll play nice with his fellow Shinigami later when he joins a squad. He mentioned something about having Ichigo tutor someone for extra credit."

"Hmm," Kyouraku spoke up for the first time since Kaien had entered the room. The captain eyed Kaien contemplatively from underneath his sakkat. "Just a thought, Kaien-kun – does your cousin realize you're... well, stalking him?"

Kaien huffed indignantly before rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Ah, not really. He knows I stop by a lot to see how he's doing but he always hides whenever I go visit. How does he expect me to know how he's doing if he doesn't even spend time with me?"

Kaien scowled a little when this only served to make both captains laugh.

"Maybe you're a bit overprotective, Kaien," Ukitake suggested with a smile. "Perhaps Ichigo-kun feels uncomfortable with all the attention you've shown him, especially with the other students watching."

Kaien paused, feeling his mood drop. "I really don't think Ichigo cares about that. From what I've seen, he just doesn't seem to care what anybody else thinks of him. He's..."

Kaien stopped again, hesitating over his next words. To be honest, he really didn't know what to make of his newest relative. Ichigo was so...

Distant.

That didn't sound quite right but it was the best Kaien could come up with. His cousin felt... sad, maybe. Sometimes, when Kaien managed to corner Ichigo and drag him out for lunch, there were occasions where he felt like the bright-haired Shinigami was _grieving_ or something, and at other times, it almost felt like Ichigo was plain tired of... _everything_.

Tired. That might be it.

Either way though, it was the main reason why Kaien kept going back. There was just something brittle about the younger Shinigami that sparked an instinctually protective side in him.

"Kaien?"

Kaien blinked out of his thoughts at his captain's voice and nailed a winning smile on his face. "It's nothing, Taichou. Ichigo just seems a bit... lost, I guess."

Lost. Yes, that was it. Distant and tired and most of all lost.

And Kaien didn't know why, and he hated that because it meant he didn't know how to help. He was the Clan Head; it was his responsibility to take care of those in his Clan, and it frustrated him to no end that their newest family member couldn't seem to find any peace with them. Ichigo hadn't even stepped foot back in the Shiba compound since he had left it four months ago to attend the Academy.

"Give him some time, Kaien," Ukitake interrupted his thoughts. "Being afflicted with amnesia can't be easy. It would be akin to being dropped off in the middle of a foreign land and struggling to adjust to living his life there. It would take a while."

"I guess so," Kaien agreed grudgingly, and really, there wasn't much else he could do. Even the Shiba Clan doctor had said that it would take time.

Still, that didn't mean Kaien couldn't keep trying. Ichigo was a Shiba and Kaien's own little cousin to boot (okay, so the 'little' was debatable but that was beside the point); there was no way Kaien was just going to hang him out to dry.

**{1}**

"A- Are we really g- going to use this place?"

Ichigo smirked briefly. "Yeah."

He surveyed their surroundings. Besides a small patch of elevated dry land on the far left, everything else had dipped down to form a rather marshy area. Some parts had even flooded.

Most Shinigami wouldn't even think to train here. Slogging through the muddy water while practicing katas and sparring against somebody else wasn't exactly something one would enjoy. A single misstep or stumble would see you face-plant straight into the swamp.

Ichigo would know; he'd tripped over more half-submerged shrubbery than he'd care to remember, and splashed gracelessly past the push of reluctantly yielding water more times than he'd care to count.

And that bastard Shunsui hadn't even allowed him to use Shunpo to stay above the area.

_That would defeat the point of this training method entirely, Ichigo-kun,_ Shunsui had said with far too much good cheer as he'd lounged on a goddamn deck chair with a bottle of sake in hand while Ichigo had glowered at him, soaked from head to toe.

If Ichigo hadn't respected the man so much, he would've ended up hating him for the rest of eternity.

"Okay, I have to know what you can do, so..." Ichigo studied his temporary student with a critical eye, ignoring the way she fidgeted. "Go through all the basic Zanjutsu katas. You can do it on dry land. For now."

He smothered the urge to snicker when Fujiwara's eyes widened in trepidation at the last bit. Inside his head, Shiro's cackles echoed with sadistic glee.

As Fujiwara obeyed, tentatively drawing her katana and beginning her first kata, it soon became clear to Ichigo that the problem wasn't that she didn't know the steps. The problem was that there was little to no power behind each of her movements. Upon facing a real opponent, her strikes would be more comparable to soft taps than anything that would actually hurt.

Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going to be tough. Or more accurately, he was going to have his work cut out for him to toughen _her _up.

Now, if Fujiwara had just entered the Academy this year, Ichigo might've been inclined to go a little easy on her. However, Ichigo couldn't recall her in any of his classes, accelerated or otherwise, which meant that she had to have been here for at least two years or more now.

Which also meant that, clearly, the methods that the Academy was using to teach Fujiwara wasn't working. One thing Ichigo had discovered during the past few months in that school was that everything that the instructors taught there was... bland. There was no variation, just a set routine of exercises that wouldn't do shit against enemies like Aizen's Hollow armies.

Ichigo exhaled shortly and then flickered forward in a blur of Shunpo, drawing his own blade as he moved and barely giving Fujiwara any time to react before he had smashed into her, metal screeching against metal as the girl just managed to raise her katana in an awkward block to defend herself.

Fujiwara yelped even as Ichigo easily shoved her backwards, flinging her off her feet with a deft twist of his wrist and watching impassively as she landed in the water with a gigantic splash.

She came up spluttering, looking shocked and frightened and downright bewildered, floundering for words as she blinked the water out of her eyes. "Sh- Shiba-san? W- What-?"

Ichigo stepped calmly into the swamp, unmindful of the water now lapping at his legs. He had had the foresight to change out of the bulkier uniform of the Academy and exchange it for a plain kimono instead. Fujiwara wasn't as lucky; Ichigo was sure she would correct her attire for next time.

"Get up," He ordered without fanfare, levelling his blade at her. "If we're going to do this, we'll do it my way. You have no strength behind your attacks, and your reflexes are absolute crap. At the rate you're going, you _might_ graduate from the Academy but you wouldn't last two minutes in a real battle."

Fujiwara gaped at him for a moment, and her eyes might or might not have filled with tears, but Ichigo was privately impressed when she only pressed her lips together and hauled herself to her feet, staggering a little as she regained her balance before raising her katana once more.

She didn't complain.

Huh. That was a pleasant surprise.

However, out loud, he only instructed, "No Shunpo."

And then he struck.

The first blow sent Fujiwara reeling backwards but Ichigo didn't relent. He slowed down just enough to let her retaliate against his onslaught but he didn't let up, only pausing when she fell over into the swamp every few minutes.

Of course, Ichigo was holding back quite a bit. He would've eviscerated the girl in half a second if he didn't but he made certain not to give her too much leeway. He could feel her muscles straining whenever their blades connected, and he was careful not to push too hard and risk muscle strain on Fujiwara's part.

Fujiwara only lasted half an hour, quite literally collapsing at the thirty-minute mark as she gulped in air, her entire frame trembling from exhaustion as her blade skittered out of her hand.

Ichigo, not even winded, lowered his Zanpakutou as well, examining her closely before sheathing his blade. "I guess that's all we'll manage today. Can you stand?"

Fujiwara didn't even have breath to answer, face red with exertion, strands of escaped hair hanging in her eyes, and clothes soggy and in need of probably more than one good wash. Nevertheless, under Ichigo's measured gaze, the girl pushed herself shakily onto her feet, only for her knees to buckle as soon as she tried to straighten.

Ichigo's hand instinctively shot forward and grabbed her by the back of her uniform before she pitched face-first back into the marsh.

There was a moment of silence, broken only by Fujiwara's ragged gasps. Ichigo made a face at the situation in general before swinging her onto his back, disregarding the immediate dirt and water that stained his own clothes. The girl's fingers automatically clutched feebly at his shoulders even as she stiffened a little with startled uncertainty.

"Hang on," Ichigo muttered, leaning down to scoop up her Zanpakutou before making his way off the training grounds. "If you let go, I'm not stopping to pick you up again."

This saw to Fujiwara's hands tightening around his shoulders as Ichigo began trudging back to the Academy.

For a long while, neither of them spoke. Ichigo was perfectly content with the hush as he mentally catalogued all the things that he would need to work on with Fujiwara - stamina, speed, the increasingly sloppy forms, the occasional useless movements in between attacks...

It was a rather long list.

"A- Are all our sparring sessions g- going to be like this?" Fujiwara's voice quavered unsteadily right behind Ichigo's left ear.

Ichigo's mouth twisted a little in sardonic amusement. "Pretty much, yeah. You have a problem with it, go see Koyonagi."

His eyebrows shot up when the only thing he received was an instantaneous refusal.

"No!" Fujiwara seemed to choke on her own outburst for a second before forging on unevenly, "I- I mean, this- this is fine."

Ichigo stopped in the middle of the road, shooting a dirty look at a few gawking passersby that sent them scurrying away, before craning his head around to peer at his student. "Are you serious? You were dead on your feet, and you can't even walk; I'm not gonna go any easier on you in the future, you know."

Fujiwara just nodded mutely and said nothing more. Her eyes skittered away from Ichigo's probing gaze but there was a certain brightness in them that had nothing to do with tears this time. The exact opposite in fact.

Ichigo's eyes narrowed as he started moving again. What the hell was wrong with this girl?

Idly, as the Academy came into sight, he figured he should stop by Koyonagi's office and ask him just what kind of person the man had dumped on Ichigo.

**{1}**

"You dumped a _noble_ on me?"

"You actually _care_?"

Ichigo glared furiously at the serene-looking man sitting cross-legged on top of his desk. Koyonagi was weird like that, and with an x-shaped scar over one cheekbone and wild tawny hair, most students found the man somewhat daunting.

Ichigo just found him aggravating beyond belief.

"No I don't," Ichigo growled. "But I would've appreciated a bit of a heads-up. I worked her to the bone today and she looked _happy_ when I told her that every session with me would be just as hard. And while we're on that subject, let me tell you, she's _soft_. What the hell are you people teaching your students these days?"

Koyanagi had the nerve to look amused. "First of all, Ichi-kun-"

"And when did we get so familiar with each other?" Ichigo interrupted crossly.

"-you're also a student here," Koyonagi continued on blithely. "Don't make it sound like you've already graduated, you arrogant brat. And secondly, Fujiwara-chan is what some people would call the _runt_ of the litter. From what I know, she would've been better suited to staying at home and spending her days sewing or something but I believe she managed to talk her Clan into letting her sign up for the Academy. Even worse, she's a bastard child.

"Because of that," Koyonagi's expression became wry. "She's not really accepted in any circle here at school, not amongst the nobles, nor amongst those from Rukongai."

Ichigo stared at him. "_I'm_ a bastard child."

_Kind of_, he amended in his head.

Koyonagi scoffed. "Yes, but you're a Shiba. Only a fool would alienate one of the five Noble Families in Seireitei in any way, and while there are plenty of fools at the Academy, none of them are foolish enough to commit political suicide.

"Fujiwara-chan on the other hand is from a branch family of a Lower Noble House; granted, the Noble House is fairly prestigious but it doesn't change the fact that it holds lesser weight than one of the main Clans, not to mention she's a branch member to boot."

Koyonagi's features soured. "Even some of the instructors ignore her for the most part. They don't think she'll make it very far even if she does manage to graduate so they don't want to waste time teaching her in vain."

"Well at the rate she's going, she won't last a month in any division," Ichigo predicted harshly.

Koyonagi smirked. "Which is why I sent her to you, Ichi-kun. I dare say she was ecstatic to meet someone who actually paid her some honest attention. And who better to whip her into shape than someone who'll train her seriously?"

Ichigo squinted suspiciously at the Shinigami. "Flattery's not gonna get you anywhere, you bastard."

Koyonagi snorted with laughter. "You're a rude brat. I've kicked a student's ass for less."

Ichigo scoffed loudly, pushing off the wall he had been leaning on and striding for the door. "We both know if you could do that, you'd have done it already. I'm stronger."

He tilted his head and expertly snatched the paperweight that Koyonagi had just thrown at him out of the air before hurling it back.

The two of them had a rather odd relationship, less instructor-and-student and more acknowledged-soon-to-be-allies once Ichigo graduated.

Koyonagi had been displeased the first time they had fought when he had seen right through Ichigo's plan to let the other man win. The instructor had refused to let Ichigo leave the room until he had stopped holding back. Ichigo had still held back in the end but, after six hours of glowering at Koyonagi and an increasing need to go to the bathroom, he had finally stepped up and disarmed the older Shinigami in three minutes flat.

Koyonagi had been absurdly satisfied with the outcome.

"You'll keep her with you?" Koyonagi called after him as Ichigo made to leave. "She's weak now but she's got good work ethic. Her Kidou's not half-bad either. Might even be able to give _you _some pointers."

Ichigo rolled his eyes at the deliberate taunt. "So long as she doesn't come crying to you, I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

He paused just inside the doorway, curiosity stirring a question in his mind. "What Noble House is she from anyway? I mean most of those Families wouldn't really allow 'runts' to attend the Academy, would they? Might bring shame to their reputation, etc, etc?"

Koyonagi shrugged. "A few are a bit more lax, gives a little more freedom to their members. Her being here at all means she's from one of them."

"Which one?" Ichigo prompted impatiently.

Koyonagi sighed dramatically and reached over to fish a file out of the pile stacked on one corner of his desk.

"Mm..." The instructor stopped several papers in, swiftly scanning the page. "Ah, here it is. The Fujiwaras are a very small branch of the Kyouraku Family."

Ichigo almost gave himself whiplash as his head snapped around to stare at Koyonagi in disbelief. And then he looked skyward and cursed the Spirit King with every swearword he knew, simply because this just _had_ to be its – his? – fault.

Talk about cycle of irony.

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**Please leave a review on your way out.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Bleach.**

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**General Warnings:** AU, GEN, Time/Dimension Travel, Ichigo-centric, violence, language.

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**Author's Notes: **A much longer chapter this time around, mostly because I'll be going camping on Monday (middle of effing nowhere with no internet) and won't be back for about a week. Hope this tides people over during that timeXD

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**Chapter 2**

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"Again. You're so slow it's actually painful to watch."

Ichigo scowled as Fujiwara lunged for him again, brow creased in a focused frown as she tried to get past the defense he was putting up. Her strikes had at least strengthened over the past four weeks, though there was still hesitation in each of her movements, and Ichigo was still blocking each blow with ease.

He inwardly winced as Fujiwara tripped over some shrubbery again, resulting in a headfirst collision with the swamp as she fell down once more.

Heaving a sigh, he absently rested his blade against one shoulder as he waited for the girl to right herself again. The only improvements they had managed to work out had been a slight increase in stamina (Fujiwara now lasted forty-five minutes against him), more natural reflexes, and somewhat stronger attacks.

The latter was still iffy because Ichigo had noticed that her strikes were only moderately strong against _him_. He had stopped by one of her classes last week, surreptitiously stationing himself in one corner of the observation deck overlooking the training room that her Zanjutsu class was taking place in, and he had been less than pleased with the way the other students she was partnered up with overpowered her.

It wasn't even because she didn't have the skill to push back – some of the idiots there were weaker than her – but Fujiwara always subconsciously held back in her spars. The instructors weren't helping matters either, turning a blind eye on the blatant bullying or simply scolding Fujiwara for getting this or that stance wrong.

Normally, Ichigo wouldn't have cared. Arrogant bastards looking down on the meeker population was a universal issue in any school; if Ichigo went around stopping every case he had ever seen, he'd never get anything else done. The bullies would be in for a rude awakening sooner or later when they realized that their condescending posturing wouldn't help them in the real world forever.

But this time was different because as reluctant as he had been in taking her on, Fujiwara was still _his_ student now, and any slurs against her was an affront against Ichigo, especially when she continued losing so abysmally against people that he _knew_ she could defeat.

"Let's take a break," He grumbled out loud, shunpoing out of the water as Fujiwara waded out after him.

"What do you think the problem is, Fujiwara?" Ichigo enquired once they were settled on dry land and he had passed a water bottle over to his student.

Fujiwara fidgeted in place, eyes glued on the bottle in her hands. She had calmed a little over the past four weeks but the girl still seemed to find it difficult to meet his gaze.

"P- Problem?" She echoed, sounding as surprised as she did uncertain. Ichigo couldn't blame her; this was the first time he had actively sat her down during a training session and talked to her.

"With you," Ichigo clarified bluntly. "You're improving; I can see that much, even though it's slow-going. But you're still getting your ass kicked in class, and I _know_ you can beat at least a third of those morons with your skill level. So what's the problem?"

Fujiwara had flinched at his frank assessment and her head ducked even lower, shoulders hunching protectively around her ears as she shrank into herself.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and reached out to whack her upside the head, only hard enough to startle her out of her funk.

"Would you stop that?" Ichigo snapped impatiently. "Look, I agreed to these tutoring sessions, which means I'm not gonna quit until you're at least top of your class. Anything less is an embarrassment to both of us. So tell me why you can't do the same thing you're doing here with those idiots knocking you around in class."

Fujiwara spluttered a little, blinking up at him uneasily before blurting out, "I just- They call me- They say things to me and I just- I forget the things I've been learning- with you."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes and then curled his left hand into a fist and threw a punch in his student's direction, slow enough for her to see but fast enough that she wouldn't be able to catch it in time with anything save the reflexes he had been drilling into her.

The resulting smack as Fujiwara's own hand instinctively flashed up to block his fist was even more satisfying than Ichigo had thought it would be. The wide-eyed look of astonishment on Fujiwara's face was icing on the cake.

"Forget my ass," Ichigo snorted derisively as he lowered his hand again. "You don't _forget_ reflexes; they stay with you for the rest of your life once you learn them. You better come up with a better excuse, Fujiwara."

Fujiwara stared at him for a second longer before her gaze shifted to her own hand as if she couldn't believe what it had done.

"I- I guess I just- I just _can't_," Fujiwara admitted at last, shoulders slumping in resigned defeat.

"Why not?" Ichigo prompted when she made no move to elaborate.

Fujiwara tugged dejectedly at one wet sleeve, looking so much like a drowned kitten for a moment that even Ichigo felt fleetingly guilty for dumping her in the water so many times.

He shook it off. If anything, he was going easy on her. The weather was nice so the swamp wasn't even chilly, plus he always called a stop to their training sessions when it looked like she had hit her limit.

Shunsui on the other hand had done no such thing for him, pushing Ichigo above and beyond with uncharacteristic insistence (_I won't see you die in this war because I didn't train you properly, Ichigo-kun_). Wartime had been a perpetual winter all year round – they had considered themselves lucky if it hadn't rained or snowed – and the notoriously laidback Eighth Division captain had been merciless in running Ichigo ragged for hours on end.

"They always say things," Fujiwara confessed at last, voice tiny. "Not- Not just about my skills or- or my studies; they say things about- about my family too, how they'd be- how they'd be better off without- without me tainting their reputation."

Fujiwara looked utterly miserable by the time she finished. Ichigo studied her for a long moment before enquiring offhandedly, "Do you agree with them?"

Fujiwara's head snapped up and a desperate sort of fire flared briefly in her eyes before she deflated again. "They- They think-"

"Fujiwara," Ichigo cut in unsympathetically. "I'm not asking what they think; hell, I couldn't care less what they think. I asked what _you_ think. Do you agree with them or not?"

Fujiwara's hands clenched, tight enough that her knuckles turned white. Still, she couldn't seem to find any words.

Ichigo, never one for holding back, pressed on relentlessly, "'Cause if you do, then I gotta say, there's no point in you being here at all. You're weaker than your average Shinigami, and a bastard child from a Noble House to boot."

He ignored the hurt distress that surfaced on Fujiwara's face, focusing instead on the glimmer of defiance he could scarcely sense behind all the timidity and bleak despair.

"People look down on you for something you can't avoid being," Ichigo continued mockingly. "And if you agree with them, then your fate's practically set in stone. You've either got a one-way ticket back to your home as a disgraced Shinigami who wasn't even good enough to graduate, just like everyone says you already are, or you'll end up dead before you get anywhere in the Gotei 13. Cannon fodder, basically. Is that what you think you are? Scrawny, weak, nervous to the point where you can't even look anyone in the eye for more than a few seconds – how the heck do you expect to earn anyone's respect when you act like a mouse all the time? Your own shadow scares you, doesn't it? You wouldn't be good for anything except acting as bait for Hollows; pretty useless for anything else. I mean maybe the other students are right; you should just run along home and spend your days tending to the household-"

Ichigo very nearly smiled when Fujiwara's tolerance almost audibly shattered and the girl literally launched herself at him, fists flying wildly as tears flooded her eyes and fury blazed high in her cheeks.

"That's not true!" She screamed, not seeming to care that her blows were being fended off easily as she swung at any part of Ichigo she could reach. "_That's not true!_ I _chose_ to become a Shinigami! That's what I want to do! I'm going to become useful, and I'm going to make my family proud, and anybody who says I'm just a worthless bastard child can _shut up_ because I'll prove all of them wrong! I'm going to be strong and there's nothing you or anyone else can say to _STOP ME!_"

Ichigo simply batted aside her flailing fists, staring her straight in the eye as he challenged, "Your words don't match your actions, Fujiwara, so who are you trying to convince? Me? If I didn't already see the potential in you, I wouldn't have agreed to these training sessions no matter what Koyonagi said. You trying to prove yourself to your tormentors then? Why the hell would they care in the long run? And why should you waste your time caring about what a bunch of lowlifes think?

"The only one you have to convince, Fujiwara," Ichigo finally snagged one of her delicate wrists and tossed her none-too-gently to the ground, glowering down at her as she trembled from the force of her emotions. "The _only one_ you have to convince is yourself, and the only thing holding you back from doing that is your own fear. Fear of failure, fear of letting your family down, fear of realizing that you really are as weak as everybody thinks you are."

Ichigo leaned forward and poked her forehead, glaring fiercely at her tearstained face. "Get rid of that fear. It's not going to help you get strong. Right now, whether you're on offense or defense, I can still sense your hesitation in your blade. You don't have any real desire to actually hit what you're aiming at when you attack, and when you defend yourself, you're so afraid of getting cut that you trip yourself up anyway. How is any of that going to help you?"

Ichigo paused, watching his student digest his words with a frozen expression, lips quivering but no longer crying.

"You lack conviction," He said at last, and for a moment, he heard the echo of Kisuke's voice in his head when the shopkeeper had once helped him find his own strength a lifetime ago. "You lack resolve, and maybe that's just you, or maybe it's years of letting those bullies get to you. Either way, I don't care. If you want to get strong, you need another mindset. Get rid of the one you have now; it's filled with way too much fear. When you attack, you should think 'I'll hit them'. And when you defend, you should think 'I won't let them hit me'. No in-betweens. No thinking 'my sword won't be able to cut them' or 'I'm scared of getting hit'. That'll just hold you back.

"I can help you with your reflexes and your speed, improve your stamina and your accuracy, and even help you develop your own sword style – I can do all that too," Ichigo straightened as he came to a finish. "But everything else, your determination to succeed, to become strong, to find your own strength as a Shinigami, all the truly important things that'll make or break the kind of person you want to become one day – that's something only you can help yourself with. No one else."

The clearing fell silent.

Ichigo didn't particularly mind. His mouth twisted a little in distaste. He had just said more in the past two minutes than he had in the past two months, especially all in one go. The only people he usually talked to nowadays were Koyonagi (he had to go to someone to complain about life in general, and Koyonagi was frequently the one who _gave_ him something to complain about) and Fujiwara (whom Ichigo ordered around more than actually talked to). The few times Kaien had managed to wrangle him out for a lunch date, his dear cousin often talked enough for both of them.

Actually, speaking of Kaien...

Ichigo stiffened when, at the very edge of his senses, he became aware of three familiar reiatsu signatures, lingering just behind the Eight Division walls several feet away and muted to the point where Academy students would never pick it up. Too bad Ichigo was no mere Academy student. He would've felt them nearby earlier if he hadn't been so engrossed in shoving some hard-learned wisdom down Fujiwara's throat.

Ichigo swore up a storm in his head. Just his luck. Stupid cousin and his stupid meddling ways. What the heck was Kaien doing at the Eighth Division compound anyway? Just because Ukitake had undoubtedly been visiting Shunsui didn't mean his damn cousin had to tag along. And Ichigo couldn't even be sure how long they had been eavesdropping on him and his student.

He almost released a startled noise when, half a heartbeat later, he found a pair of arms wrapped around his waist and a face pressed against his chest.

He froze.

What the hell?

"Oi!" Ichigo barked in alarm, trying to shrug her off. Where had the shy girl who couldn't even look at him gone? "Get off! What do I look like, a giant stuffed animal?"

When it became clear that she wasn't going to let go any time soon, Ichigo patted her back awkwardly, inwardly panicking when he heard a few sniffles coming from Fujiwara as well. Upset tears were infinitely harder to deal with than angry tears. "Okay, Fujiwara, either let go or tell my why the hell you're crying on me."

_And please, for the love of god, make it quick_, he mentally tacked on.

Fujiwara pulled back at last, much to Ichigo's relief, but while she seemed embarrassed as Ichigo whipped out a tissue and roughly thrust it at her, she stayed huddled by his side, looking far more relaxed in his presence than she had at any other time over the past four weeks.

"...Do _you_ think I can do it?" Fujiwara finally piped up after mopping her face free of tears, and for once, she managed to look straight at him, grey eyes hopeful.

Ichigo rolled his eyes and scowled in annoyance. "Don't tell me everything I just said went right over your head. Does it matter what I think?"

"Yes." The honest, point-blank reply made his scowl falter. For once, Fujiwara's gaze was unwaveringly calm and equally determined, and for a split second, Ichigo was reminded of Kyouraku Shunsui.

It disappeared as abruptly as it had come when Fujiwara squirmed in place under Ichigo's scrutiny but she didn't look away as she stammered out, "It- It's important to me. I just- Do you think I can do it? If I try hard enough?"

Ichigo eyed her critically for a few seconds longer before scoffing, "Like I said, I can already see your potential. If I thought you couldn't do it, I wouldn't waste three afternoons a week training you. And since that's exactly what I'm doing, you damn well better not just _try_. You're _going _to do it, clear?"

For the first time since Ichigo had met her, Fujiwara smiled. It was small and tremulous and a little lopsided like her face wasn't used to accommodating such an expression, but it was genuine and it made her puffy-eyed, tear-blotched features brighten.

Ichigo snorted and shoved her in the general direction of the training area. "Now, if we are finished with this overt display of emotions, get back to work. I expect you to kick some ass in your next Zanjutsu class so you better start telling your self-esteem issues to take a hike. You're getting better every day; there's no reason for you to continue losing to half the brainless twits in your class, understand?"

Fujiwara scrambled to her feet and nodded vigorously, eeping and darting away back towards the swamp when Ichigo levelled his sword at her.

"You can start on your laps!" Ichigo hollered after her. "Your stamina is so appalling it makes me wanna drown myself. And if you don't finish all thirty in the next ten minutes, I'm doubling it."

For the next few minutes, Ichigo remained in place as Fujiwara jogged around the swampy grounds, each step lifted high as she sloshed through the water.

And then he stood up.

"Keep going," He instructed when Fujiwara glanced over. As she continued on, Ichigo casually meandered over to the high white wall that surrounded the Eight Division barracks. He halted a step away, considering his next move, and then his more impulsive side won out.

Shiba Kaien was going to get a piece of his mind.

In one smooth movement, Ichigo leapt up in a rush of Shunpo, one hand grasping the top of the wall as he vaulted himself over and landed inside the compound on silent feet, directly in front of two captains and a wide-eyed lieutenant.

"Hello, cousin," Ichigo greeted with deceptive cordiality. "Fine weather we're having, aren't we? Perfect for..."

He flicked a glance at the bushes that his cousin was crouching beside as he had spied on Ichigo and his student. "Outdoor recreation."

**{2}**

Kaien almost jumped out of skin when a blur of orange and grey landed in front of him, and his cousin's formidable glare was suddenly pinning him in place.

_Aw, crap_, he sighed mournfully. _Why's he only mad at me? I'm not the only one here!_

"Eheh," He grinned sheepishly as he levered himself to his feet, catching a quicksilver smile on his own captain's face out of the corner of his eye.

_Traitor_.

"Hey, Ichigo!" Might as well start on a cheerful note because with the way things were going, it certainly wasn't going to end on one. "How are you today? I had no idea you were training your student outside of the Academy. Imagine my surprise when Taichou and I saw you from one of the upper floors. We just had to check it out. And then Kyouraku-taichou told us that that girl's his cousin so..."

He trailed off, ceasing his babbling when his baby cousin's left eye twitched.

"Uhh..." He wracked his mind and seized the nearest change of subject, waving a hand at the two captains beside him. "I don't think you've met these captains yet, have you? This is my captain, Ukitake-taichou, and this is the Eighth Division captain, Kyouraku-taichou. He's like third cousins with your student or something."

To his credit, Ichigo didn't balk like most students would when facing even just one captain. The bright-haired Shinigami flicked a glance first at Ukitake and then at Kyouraku.

Kaien blinked. He could've sworn there was something a lot like pain in his cousin's expression for a fraction of a second when Ichigo had looked at the latter. He glanced briefly at Kyouraku himself but it was impossible to tell what the captain was thinking behind that languid expression.

"Good afternoon, Kyouraku-taichou, Ukitake-taichou," Ichigo dipped his head politely, which was a first because Kaien had never seen his cousin show even that much respect for the Academy instructors.

To Kaien's heartfelt relief, Ukitake stepped up with a friendly smile, no longer leaving him to take the brunt of Ichigo's passive irritation.

"Hello, Ichigo-kun," Ukitake greeted warmly. "I apologize for our intrusion; I suppose our curiosity got the better of us. Kaien has told us much about you."

"I have no doubt," Ichigo grumbled, and Kaien had to give his little cousin props. Not many Shinigami in general had the balls to talk to a captain with so little propriety.

He froze again when Ichigo narrowed his eyes at him once more. His baby cousin looked two seconds away from cracking his knuckles ominously and decking him.

Kaien hastily raised his hands in the universal sign of placation. "Now, now, Ichi-kun-"

"Since when did I give you permission to call me that?" Ichigo growled.

Kaien couldn't help puffing up indignantly. "You let Koyonagi-san call you that!"

Ichigo bristled. "That shitty geezer never listens to a word I say. It's always Ichi-kun this or Ichi-chan that; he's probably made it his life's goal to make me snap and strangle him one of these days."

Kaien sweatdropped as a cough that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle came from his captain. In contrast, Kyouraku didn't even bother hiding his quiet huff of laughter.

"That 'shitty geezer' is your sensei, Ichigo," Kaien reminded him.

"Technically, he's the Zanjutsu department head," Ichigo corrected evenly.

"Same difference," Kaien argued back, more for the sake of keeping Ichigo talking than anything else because this was the most his cousin had ever said in his presence all at once.

"Don't care," Ichigo retorted brusquely. "Now was there anything you actually wanted or are you just here to avoid doing your paperwork?"

Kaien reached out and flicked the hard frown marring his little cousin's forehead. "Ichigo, show some respect for your superiors."

Ichigo looked positively enraged at the finger-flick Kaien had delivered but refrained from saying anything as he seemingly digested Kaien's reprimand. And then, blatantly ignoring Kaien, the orange-haired Shinigami turned a bland stare on both Ukitake and Kyouraku and repeated, "Was there anything you actually wanted, _sirs_?"

Both captains exchanged a glance, looking utterly bemused. Kaien almost fell over, and then lunged for his cousin with the partially mischievous intention of putting the younger Shinigami in a chokehold as retribution.

Too late, Kaien spotted the evil smirk that suddenly curled at Ichigo's mouth. "What-"

Within the span of one and a half seconds, his baby cousin had sidestepped his hands, grabbed one of his arms, turned, jammed a slanted shoulder into his chest, shifted his center of gravity, and lifted Kaien clean off the ground, flipping him over Ichigo's head. Another quarter of a second later found Kaien losing all the air in his lungs as he thumped heavily onto the ground, spread-eagled and staring up at the blue sky, completely speechless even if he had had enough breath to speak with.

"Ah, my bad, cousin," Ichigo's face appeared above Kaien as the younger Shiba apologized in a wholly unapologetic tone. "Reflexes, you know."

"You-! You-!" Kaien spluttered, gaping at Ichigo. "You threw me!"

"Astute observation, Kaien," Ichigo deadpanned sardonically. "I can see why you're widely lauded for your genius intellect."

Kaien gawked for a moment longer, stunned. Was his cousin...?

"You're teasing me!" Kaien exclaimed gleefully in a brilliant leap of insight. He ignored the sudden horror on his cousin's face as he rolled to his feet and, successfully this time, caught Ichigo in a tight one-armed hug as his free hand balled into a fist and drilled affectionately into the Shinigami's bright mop of hair. "See? I knew you'd warm up to me eventually! Now you're starting to act like a real Shiba!"

"Get the hell off me, you crazy bastard!"

"Aw, don't be shy, cousin!"

"Who the fuck are you calling shy, you brain-dead-"

"Um, Sh- Shiba-san?"

Kaien turned in the direction of the muffled voice, and then winced when Ichigo took this opportunity to jab a sharp elbow into Kaien's gut to free himself.

"Yeah?" Kaien automatically answered just as Ichigo barked, "What?"

Ichigo rounded on him with a glower. "She's talking to me, idiot; why in the world would she be talking to you?"

His cousin turned back to the wall. "What do you want?"

"Um, I- I'm finished my laps, Sh- Shiba-san."

Ichigo's scowl deepened. "Go run some more then."

"E- Eh? More? U- Um, why?"

A deaf man could've picked up the dismay in the girl's voice. Evidently, stamina training wasn't something Fujiwara liked doing. Kaien winced in sympathy at the adamant expression on Ichigo's face.

"Because I say so," Ichigo began listing. "Because your stamina sucks. Because you obviously didn't run fast enough before if you still have breath to complain right now. Because I haven't finished dealing with my thick-headed Neanderthal of a cousin yet. Take your pick and get back to work!"

On the other side of the wall, Fujiwara squeaked, "Yes, sir!", and scurried off at once.

Kaien ran a hand through his hair. Inwardly, he smiled with some bewilderment; Kukaku often dubbed him, Ganju, and Isshin 'thick-headed Neanderthals'. Either Ichigo had picked it up somehow or the Shiba genes were choosing to appear in a rather odd way.

Outwardly, he poked Ichigo on the shoulder. "Geez Ichigo, remind me to give you some lessons on how to treat a lady!"

Ichigo snorted, crossing his arms. "Right, _you _treat her like a lady. _I'll_ treat her like I want her to live past her first battle."

Ouch, that was below the belt. Kaien blinked dubiously at his cousin. He remembered the pep talk Ichigo had given Fujiwara earlier, and he'd agreed with the surprisingly impressive advice that the younger Shinigami had imparted, but Ichigo was still quite tough with the girl overall. "She's an Academy student! Just a fifth-year too!"

"She's a dead body is what she is if she doesn't get stronger," Ichigo countered swiftly and actually gave him a hard stare. "She's also my student so back off, Kaien."

Kaien almost took a step back, startled. How the hell had the conversation gone from relatively light-hearted banter to... this?

Kaien straightened, the last of his smile sliding off his face when he caught the weary darkness in Ichigo's eyes. He instinctively reached out for the younger Shinigami's shoulder. "Hey, cousin...?"

Ichigo blinked and the darkness disappeared, shielded from sight as the bright-haired Shiba neatly evaded Kaien's hand.

"I should get back to Fujiwara," Ichigo stated instead, expression settling into the typical closed off mask that Kaien was most familiar with. "It was nice meeting you, Kyouraku-taichou, Ukitake-taichou."

Kaien mentally slapped himself. He had all but forgotten the two captains, and judging by Ukitake's knowing look, the older Shinigami knew it too.

"Yes," Ukitake returned amicably, an amused glint in his eyes coupled with a thoughtful edge to his features as the man smiled at Ichigo again. "Best of luck in your studies, Ichigo-kun."

Ichigo nodded tersely. "Thank you, sir."

The orange-haired Shinigami nodded at Kyouraku as well, who inclined his head in lazy response. Kaien blinked when he realized that the captain hadn't said a single word throughout their entire impromptu conversation. It was something he had noticed about Kyouraku; for all that the man could be very sociable and easy to talk to (and was more than willing to drink just about anyone under the table at a party), half the time, he also preferred staying silent and subtly attentive on the sidelines instead, virtually fading into the background with practiced ease even when he was in plain, pink-clad sight.

One day, Kaien really wanted to learn how to do that.

For now though, Kaien jumped in, not quite ready to let his cousin go just yet. "Wait, Ichigo, I've been meaning to ask you – again – do you want to come home for dinner tomor-"

"No," Ichigo cut him off candidly.

Kaien drooped with disappointment but rallied, "Well, maybe next time then. You know you're always welcome, right? The Shiba compound is your home too now. You have your own set of rooms there, which is just sitting there collecting dust by the way, and Kukaku's been asking after you. Even Ganju and Isshin-ji and a couple of the others have been wanting to know how you're holding up."

Ichigo stilled and a peculiar look that Kaien couldn't quite decipher flitted across his features, lightning-quick.

"You can tell them I'm fine," Ichigo muttered. "They- You guys don't have to worry."

Again, that flash of exhausted despondency passed over his cousin's face and Kaien thought, _how can we not when you look like that?_

"Well, I'm sure I'll see you later," Ichigo grimaced at him. "Unfortunately."

Kaien just grinned. His baby cousin was so grouchy all the time. "Aa, until next time, cousin."

Ichigo scoffed and made to Shunpo back over the wall again, only to pause two steps forward, a conflicted expression furrowing his brow for a second before he turned back rather abruptly, gaze zeroing in on Kyouraku with puzzling intensity.

The Eighth Division captain arched a questioning eyebrow, grey eyes inquisitive.

Ichigo coughed. "Um, I just wanted to say, I'll take good care of your cousin. I promise."

Even the usually unruffled Kyouraku looked momentarily taken aback. Kaien's jaw almost dropped open again at the unexpected turnabout while Ukitake watched on with a faint air of surprised approval.

And then Kyouraku's features relaxed into a smile, one hand reaching up to tilt his sakkat forward in acknowledgement. "Mm, train her well. She just needs someone who'll believe in her."

They had all heard Ichigo's lecture earlier, and if that wasn't Ichigo believing in Fujiwara, then Kaien didn't know what was.

Ichigo nodded and ducked his head in a curt half-bow once more before finally shunpoing away. Half a second later, they heard him yell, "Fujiwara, why in the name of all that's holy are you running like that?! If you sprain something, you better be prepared to sleep here tonight because there's no way I'm carrying you back!"

"But- But you always- always carry me ba-"

"That's not the point! And for god's sakes, regulate your breathing! You look like you just ran the Tokyo Marathon!"

"W- What's the Tokyo-"

"Nevermind! Just... Hey, watch out for that-"

Splash!

"-bush. Fujiwara, have I mentioned recently how clumsy you are?"

"Um, half- half an hour ago?"

"Not recent enough then. Get up. We're going to start sparring."

Kaien snorted. Those two were a comedy act all on their own.

Idly, he glanced over at the two captains. "So... what do you think of my baby cousin?"

"I think 'baby' is extremely misleading, Kaien," Ukitake remarked mildly. "There is... wisdom in Ichigo-kun's beliefs. And..."

Ukitake tilted his head, expression sombre as he shared another weighty glance with Kyouraku before looking back at Kaien again. "Are you certain he does not remember anything of his past before you found him, Kaien?"

Kaien stiffened. Well, he couldn't say for sure.

"He has old eyes," Kyouraku commented quietly but made no move to expand on his observation.

Kaien looked between them and then shifted his gaze in the direction of the training grounds. Somehow, he got the feeling that his little cousin was juggling a lot more than just schoolwork and an apprentice.

This thought did nothing to alleviate his growing concerns.

**{2}**

With a sigh, Ichigo leaned back against his closed door, closing his eyes as he slid down to sit on the floor.

Well that could've gone better.

He sighed again, resting his forehead on his raised knees. When he had chosen to confront Kaien and bite his head off for eavesdropping, he had known he would also be facing Shunsui and Ukitake.

He hadn't expected it to hurt quite as much as it had.

So far, he hadn't actually _seen_ anyone from his old timeline. Oh sure, he had sensed some of them whenever he was out and about the rest of Seireitei but he had, consciously or unconsciously, avoided the areas where they would have the most chance of being found.

Clapping eyes on his old mentor today had felt like a punch in the gut. He had felt a pang of sorrow at seeing Ukitake again – there had been very few of the older Shinigami that he had truly respected; Ukitake had been one of them – but Ichigo had always considered the white-haired captain as 'Rukia's captain' and 'trusted comrade' and, of course, 'must be protected'; however, Ukitake had never really entered the category where Ichigo had placed all of the people he had truly _known_ and cherished. Ichigo would've certainly given his life for the man – he would've done it for any of his allies – but Ukitake hadn't been on the same level as Rukia or Renji or Toshirou.

Shunsui on the other hand had been his teacher and surrogate uncle. Whenever Ichigo had freaked out about another several dozen deaths on their side or had witnessed a particularly gory massacre on the sands of Hueco Mundo, it had usually been Shunsui, Shinji, or Kisuke who had forcibly dragged him out of whatever mood he had worked himself into. God forbid he actually went to his own father; Isshin was a lot of things and Ichigo loved him no matter how exasperating the man got, but the former captain had never really known how to take care of Ichigo. Isshin had always been significantly better with daughters than sons, and since that had meant that at least Karin and Yuzu would always have a parent to turn to, Ichigo had accepted this fact without fuss.

Still, it had done him no favours today. He had barely been able to look at Shunsui throughout the entire – admittedly short – exchange that afternoon. His only saving grace had been Kaien who had successfully redirected most of the conversation to something more entertaining.

And god, he hadn't meant to snap at Kaien like that when his cousin had joked about treating Fujiwara like a lady, about going a little softer on her. But Ichigo had personally witnessed what had happened to Academy graduates who only had the traditional basic training under their belts.

He hadn't been kidding. They were cannon fodder.

During the war, when there hadn't been enough hands to deal with all the skirmishes and raids, some of the Shinigami, either fresh out of the Academy or even with a few decades of experience in the Gotei 13, had been sent out to fight. Most of them hadn't come back. It had gotten to the point where everybody knew that to send a lower-levelled Shinigami out onto the battlefield was equivalent to handing them a death sentence. With only Academy training, they were weak, and they'd been helpless against Aizen's Hogyoku-empowered armies.

Ichigo had no desire to see Fujiwara go the same way. The girl was troublesome but she was still his student. So he would train her with Aizen's Hollows in mind, and if that meant a tougher regimen than all the other students at school, then so be it.

He had promised Shunsui too that he'd take care of Fujiwara, and even if the captain didn't know that this promise was partially made as something of a thank-you for Shunsui's own dedication towards Ichigo when the man had been training him, Ichigo had meant every word. Come hell or high water, he'd make Fujiwara into a damn good Shinigami.

**{2}**

Shunsui leaned back in his chair, staring idly up at the ceiling as he tuned out yet another one of Lisa's dressing-downs for not doing his paperwork. He was very fond of her but if Yama-jii couldn't make him sit down and willingly fill out the cursed stacks of paper, Lisa's sermons certainly weren't going to work.

His gaze slid absently over to the open window. If he concentrated, he could sense his young cousin and her new tutor's reiatsu signatures beyond the back wall of his Division compound.

Every afternoon on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, like clockwork.

"_Kyouraku-taichou, are you listening to me_?"

Shunsui bit back a sigh and offered a rueful smile in his lieutenant's direction. "Maa, Lisa-chan, why don't we take a break."

This was clearly the wrong thing to say because if Lisa looked ready to wring his neck before, she now looked like she was itching to whip out her Zanpakutou and skewer him. "Taichou! You've been 'taking a break' all day! It's almost six and you haven't even _started_!"

Shunsui waved a hand and got to his feet. "Don't worry, Lisa-chan, the paperwork will still be there tomorrow. It's too good a day to stay indoors."

Lisa threw up her hands. "You have got to be joking! Where are you going?"

"For some fresh air," Shunsui tossed back over his shoulder as he ambled towards the door. "The paperwork will keep, Lisa-chan. Why don't you go find Nanao-chan and see how she's doing? She's always happy when she gets a visit from you."

Shunsui grinned to himself when Lisa huffed and pointed out that the window was open and there was plenty of fresh air in the office but didn't protest any further. His lieutenant loved Nanao like a little sister and was always happy to go seek her out for a social call.

That taken care of, Shunsui made his way outside, swinging himself up onto a shadowed portion of the roof that had a good view of the swampy training area behind the Eighth Division barracks.

To be honest, he had already known about those two training in the Eighth's backyard for a few weeks now; he simply hadn't seen any need to tell anyone about it, especially since they were supposed to be training outside of class.

The first time he had caught a glimpse of them, Shunsui had been surprised to see his reticent cousin fighting for her life against a bright-haired unknown Shinigami. For a brief moment, he had thought that Asuka was being bullied or attacked and had been all set to hurry outside to make sure she wouldn't get badly injured or killed.

But when he had drawn nearer, he had instantly recognized the physical attributes of a Shiba, not to mention, upon a second, closer look, he had realized that the boy was only sparring against Asuka, fixing an elbow here, adjusting a stance there.

The sheer speed and intensity of the training session had been ridiculous but Asuka hadn't been complaining and his cousin had already been reacting to each of her sparring partner's strikes faster than Shunsui could ever remember her moving.

Asuka was improving.

So he hadn't said anything, hiding his reiatsu signature and stationing himself as far away as possible without losing sight of them instead.

And over the span of four weeks, he had seen considerable improvement on his cousin's part. The boy – Shiba Ichigo; Kaien's much-talked-about baby cousin – was a tough but effective teacher. Shunsui often heard the orange-haired Shiba taunting Asuka with various insults as well but his cousin seemed to take it all in stride, unaffected in a way that differed vastly from her usual reaction to the verbal abuse that her regular bullies heaped on her.

But it wasn't until last Thursday that Shunsui had seen exactly why Asuka had taken to Ichigo like she hadn't anyone else.

_"You lack conviction, you lack resolve, and maybe that's just you, or maybe it's years of letting those bullies get to you. Either way, I don't care. If you want to get strong, you need another mindset. Get rid of the one you have now; it's filled with way too much fear. When you attack, you should think 'I'll hit them'. And when you defend, you should think 'I won't let them hit me'. No in-betweens. No thinking 'my sword won't be able to cut them' or 'I'm scared of getting hit'. That'll just hold you back."_

Shunsui leaned back, idly watching the practice taking place in the distance. How could a first-year Academy student, no matter how much of a prodigy, understand the very core of a Zanpakutou's power and a Shinigami's strength? The kid was right, fear wouldn't take you anywhere but down. Conviction in one's own beliefs was the true key to winning any battle, and there were seated officers in the Gotei 13 who didn't understand that concept.

Yet Ichigo had spoken with the sort of confidence borne from experience. He hadn't been spouting empty words or reciting from a textbook.

_"Your determination to succeed, to become strong, to find your own strength as a Shinigami, all the truly important things that'll make or break the kind of person you want to become one day – that's something only you can help yourself with. No one else."_

Shunsui huffed a wry laugh. No wonder Asuka hadn't so much as protested at the harsh training. He knew that the Academy instructors all dismissed her readily enough, and on occasion, he'd tried to put a word in here and there to urge them to take his cousin seriously, to train her properly, but, suffice it to say, it hadn't worked. If anything, it had done the exact opposite, leaving most of the instructors convinced that Asuka was only barely floating through the Academy on the Kyouraku Clan's reputation alone. Shunsui had expected this of course, and after putting down some of the worst rumours, he had backed off and hoped for the best.

For someone else to come along and take her under their wing, Asuka must've been thrilled when Ichigo had treated her no differently than anyone else. Shunsui had made a few enquiries and had found out that yes, Ichigo was always that gruff and sharp, with both students and instructors alike.

Heck, if anything, Ichigo was soft on Asuka, punctuating their training sessions with awkward encouragements hidden behind sarcastic provocations, and never failing to carry her back if she was too tired to even stumble towards the Academy. From what Shunsui had learned, Ichigo typically didn't give anyone else the time of day.

Shunsui turned his focus back to the present, studying Ichigo's own fighting style. The boy was good – excellent – no doubt about that. Even just watching these tutoring sessions, Shunsui could see that the young Shiba far outstripped Academy level. He'd need to see Ichigo in actual combat first but he was fairly certain that the bright-haired Shinigami could easily rival a seated officer. Shunsui genuinely wanted to see just how strong this kid was.

And Kaien had said that Ichigo would be graduating within a year. Some battle experience would certainly look nice on paper.

_Of course, the kid looks like he's already seen battle before_, Shunsui mused to himself, and not for the first time, he wondered what Shiba Ichigo had gone through before Kaien had found him. he knew Rukongai could be a hostile place but not to the extent of putting that lost, desolate look in the younger Shinigami's eyes.

There was something very strange about that kid too, weariness aside. Shunsui wasn't so unobservant as to not notice the way Ichigo hadn't seemed to be able to look his way for more than a few seconds until the very end. The young Shiba hadn't struck him as excessively shy like Asuka was so that ruled out the anxiety of facing a superior. Besides, Ichigo had been fine with Juushirou, and he hadn't minded fooling around with Kaien in front of both of them.

"Kyouraku-taichou!"

Shunsui stifled a doleful sigh as he peered down over the edge of the roof. "Yes, Lisa-chan?"

Lisa frowned at him, unmistakably annoyed, but she only tossed a missive and a file up towards him. "This just came in from the Captain-Commander."

Shunsui caught it easily, setting his sake down as he scanned the note.

_'Fifth Division captain Hirako Shinji requests reinforcements for ongoing mission in District 64 of North Rukongai. Eighth Division captain Kyouraku Shunsui is to dispatch a team to support them. This will be a joint effort between the Eighth and Thirteenth Divisions. Gather at the North Gate in half an hour's time.'_

Shunsui frowned, quickly flipping through the file next. Two teams? And the Eighth and Thirteenth at that? Hirako was no pushover; for the Fifth Division captain to request assistance, whatever Hollows they were facing must be the tougher sort. Their mission was supposed to be a simple recon too; from the looks of it, something must've gone wrong.

"Lisa-chan," He called down, foregoing his usual teasing. Lisa straightened to attention. "Assemble a team of six; you'll take point-"

He cut himself off, gaze flickering back to the distant training grounds where Asuka and Ichigo were just leaving, grabbing their coats and shunpoing away.

"Taichou?"

He glanced back at Lisa, mind racing. If he was quick about it, he would have time to stop by the Academy and request a student or two to accompany his squad on this mission. It wasn't uncommon for officers to bring along a few Academy undergraduates if they had the approval of both captain and a school supervisor. The student was usually at least a fifth-year but there had been cases where truly talented younger Shinigami would be allowed to go – Kaien and Ichimaru Gin came to mind.

Kaien might take his head off though if Shunsui only requested the lieutenant's 'baby cousin'. It would be better if he brought along another one so that he could at least claim that he was giving a few Academy students some experience in battle instead of just wanting to test Ichigo's abilities and satisfy his own curiosity.

Nodding decisively to himself, he rose to his feet and leapt back down onto the balcony below. "Nevermind, Lisa-chan, I'll lead this one. Just go assemble a team."

Lisa stared at him, looking torn between delight that he was actually doing something and incredulity that he was... well, actually doing something.

Shunsui very nearly rolled his eyes and patted his lieutenant on the back. "Come on, Lisa-chan, you know I'm not that bad."

Lisa did roll her eyes, sketching a quick salute even as she reached out and snagged his sake bottle. "Oh I beg to differ. Team of six, right? On it."

She shunpoed away in the direction of the barracks to round up the necessary officers, and Shunsui spared a second to lament the loss of his alcohol before shunpoing off as well, the Academy being his next destination.

**{2}**

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Alright, alright, I'm coming!" Ichigo shouted as he stormed out of the bathroom, hair still damp with a towel slung around his shoulders and a grey kimono draped loosely around his frame. He fumbled with the sash, loosely tying it around his waist just before he reached the door.

He knew it was Koyonagi on the other side. Nobody else had the guts to come knocking, and Fujiwara had only stopped by that first time, not to mention she would never bang on his door in a million years.

And _because_ it was Koyonagi, Ichigo had been determined to ignore it, especially since he had just stepped out of the shower, but the bastard hadn't given up for a full two minutes and the noise was giving Ichigo a headache.

Bang! Bang! Bang! "Ichi-chan! Open up!"

Jaw tight and more than ready to stab Koyonagi a couple hundred times, Ichigo threw open the door. At the same time, having swiped up his Zanpakutou when he had been halfway across his dorm room, Ichigo swung his katana up and thrust it forward even before he had fully opened the door.

"What the hell do you want, you shitty geezer?!" Ichigo snarled, only minimally satisfied when Koyonagi had to bend backwards to avoid getting beheaded. "There better be an apocalypse on the horizon and Hollows lined up at the front door ready to slaughter us all or so help me-"

His voice died in his throat when he finally registered the fact that there were two people at his door, not just the usual aggravating one. More importantly, the second man was also his once-upon-a-future-time mentor.

Who looked exceedingly amused.

"Maa, I'm afraid we haven't quite reached the apocalypse yet, Ichigo-kun," Shunsui told him cheerfully.

Instinctively, Ichigo lowered his blade and straightened in place, inclining his head in the shallowest of bows. "Uh, Kyouraku-taichou, good evening."

"Oh, so he gets a 'good evening' and I get a sword to the throat?" Koyonagi interjected indignantly as he unbent his spine. "How is that in any way fair?"

Ichigo turned a flat stare on the lion-like man. "Life's not fair; for an old geezer, I would've thought you'd know that by now."

Koyonagi rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. "You're hopeless. I should open a class at the Academy – 'Manners For Snot-Nosed Brats'. Clearly, you need it."

Ichigo glowered at him. He knew how to be polite; his mother _had _taught him his manners. He just didn't use them very often.

As infuriating as Koyonagi was though, Ichigo didn't shoot back a retort, turning to face Shunsui again instead. The captain wouldn't be visiting him if it wasn't for something important.

So, without further ado, he prompted, "Taichou, is there something I can help you with?"

Shunsui's genial smile never wavered but a more solemn note entered his voice, one Ichigo recognized as the tone that the captain typically adopted when handling serious business.

"A team from the Eighth and Thirteenth respectively have been summoned as support for a Fifth Division squad on an ongoing mission; Hollows in District 64, North Rukongai," Shunsui summarized succinctly. "I want to take a few Academy students with me to give them some real battle experience; you're one of them. Do you want to come?"

Ichigo instantly frowned as he wracked his mind. Kyouraku Shunsui could be whimsical on a good day but the man didn't do things without reason when it came to the more dangerous aspects of his job. So why invite Ichigo when he was only a first-year, not even finished six months of school? There were a whole slew of fifth- and sixth-years no doubt hoping for a chance to accompany a squad into battle to witness some real action.

The answer came easily enough. Acting had never been Ichigo's strong suit. Shunsui had probably picked up a few oddities in his behaviour and had gotten curious. And after hearing – and possibly seeing – Ichigo train Fujiwara, the captain most likely wanted to know what he was like in a fight as well.

Well, Ichigo had to show some of his skill sometime, especially if he didn't want to be relegated to a low-rank position even after graduating early. He had to hide most of what he could really do, but also be good enough to attract some interest.

"Sure," He found himself consenting readily. "I just need a minute to change."

Shunsui smiled and nodded, reminding him, "Not your school uniform though. Pick something more comfortable and easier to move around in."

Ichigo nodded in agreement and shut the door, zooming towards his closet and pulling out a custom-made black, long-sleeved Shihakushou with a ragged hemline and a thin white trim at the bottom, one that greatly resembled his old attire back in his time. Kaien had continued sending him pocket money every month but the only thing he had spent some of it on had been this uniform, and Ichigo fully planned on paying Kaien back once he entered the Gotei 13 and started getting his paychecks. He was no one's charity case even if he _was_ a Shiba and was sort of entitled to some of the money. Accepting any funds from the Shiba Clan made him feel uncomfortable.

He quickly changed, finding socks, sandals, and a pair of black fingerless gloves as Shiro, sounding tremendously excited, cackled happily about finally getting the chance to let loose a little.

Ichigo couldn't blame him. Academy spars were only slightly more stimulating than watching grass grow.

Securing his Zanpakutou through the black sash around his waist, Ichigo strode for the door again, slipping seamlessly into a more focused mentality as he mentally reviewed the mission parameters.

District 64, North Rukongai – wasn't that where a few of Aizen's secret labs were located?

And support for a team from the Fifth Division. Ichigo inwardly grimaced and started praying that Hirako Shinji wouldn't be the one leading it. He wasn't ready to see his old friend yet.

Then again, better Shinji than Aizen. Who knew? Ichigo just might accidentally on purpose shove the would-be traitor into the path of a hungry Hollow, and that would definitely get him in big shit, especially since the madman would undoubtedly survive.

Stepping outside, Ichigo closed and locked the door behind him, arching an eyebrow when Koyonagi actually did a double-take.

"Well, you take 'Shinigami' to a whole new level," The instructor commented, eyeing his dark clothes. It contrasted greatly with the usual half-white attire of the Academy uniform.

Ichigo's mouth twisted into a sneer, feeling unreasonably protective of his chosen outfit. After all, before he had been able to seal his Zanpakutou, his Shihakushou had been much like this one and that had been a manifestation of Zangetsu's power.

"I like black," Ichigo defended shortly. "Even my Zanpakutou is black."

"Only the hilt," Koyonagi pointed out, a calculating gleam suddenly entering his eyes.

Ichigo silently scoffed. The bastard had been trying to discover whether or not Ichigo had achieved Shikai yet for months now.

"Exactly," He returned vaguely before turning to Shunsui and paying no mind to Koyonagi's disgruntled huff. "Sorry to keep you waiting, sir."

"We still have time," Shunsui assured, nodding a passing farewell to Koyonagi and gesturing for Ichigo to follow. "Koyonagi suggested one other student – a sixth-year – so we'll be meeting up with her at the front."

Ichigo nodded and fell into step behind Shunsui, only to pause when Koyonagi unexpectedly called after them, "Ichigo, be careful."

Ichigo cocked his head. What, no 'Ichi-kun' or 'Ichi-chan' or something equally irksome this time? Heck, this had to be the first time Koyonagi had _ever_ addressed him properly. The man had started out with 'Shiba-kun' five months ago for all of five minutes before switching to the butchered versions of his first name ever since.

He glanced back, softening a little when he spotted the uncharacteristically sombre cast shadowing the older Shinigami's features. "...Yeah, I'll be fine."

Koyonagi stared unblinkingly at him for a moment longer before a smirk curled at his lips. "Good; you still owe me for getting you that extra credit and recommending you as a tutor for Fujiwara-chan. Imagine the trouble you'd be in without me looking out for you, Ichi-kun!"

Ichigo spluttered, any feelings of goodwill dissipating instantaneously. "The only thing I owe you is a broken nose, you smug bastard!"

He whirled away and stalked off when Koyonagi just waved at him with a "Bye-bye, Ichi! Don't get eaten!"

Ichigo fumed as Shiro laughed his ass off inside their shared mindscape, and Zangetsu's deep chuckles joined in.

"Come on, Taichou," Ichigo growled, temporarily forgetting himself as he stomped past the Eighth Division captain. "Before I murder someone in the Academy halls."

Trailing after him, Kyouraku laughed out loud, and for a startled heartbeat, Ichigo's frustration ebbed and he could almost imagine himself back in his own time, hanging out with his friends between skirmishes, relatively content even with the war raging around them, before everything had gone south.

And then he shoved those memories aside and concentrated on being irritated. Now was not the time to take a trip down memory lane. He had a mission to complete and a mangy lion of a Shinigami to cold-cock afterwards.

**{2}**

Shunsui didn't see many Shinigami like Ichigo anymore, the sort that didn't bow low to every authority figure in sight, and subconsciously challenged every man he met to prove that they were worth respecting.

Granted, Koyonagi wasn't big on protocol either but most students overlooked things like that and skipped right on to trying to score points with their superiors in any way they could.

Shunsui had personally never seen anyone who could insult someone so many times in one conversation and still maintain an underlying thread of respect throughout the entire exchange but Ichigo had managed to pull it off just fine. The kid had snapped and growled at Koyonagi but Shunsui recognized genuine regard when he saw it.

And it had been entertaining to watch. Nowadays, the only people who didn't sweep reverent bows in his presence were the other captains and maybe half the lieutenants. The rest always carried an undercurrent of nervousness when speaking to him or even one of the other captains. Yama-jii would never agree of course but Shunsui sometimes wished that they weren't all such imposing figures; it put something of a wall between the upper echelon and everyone else, admiring whispers of their strength embellished in ways that put them on too-high pedestals in comparison to many of the lower-ranked Shinigami.

After all, as the saying went, the higher one stood, the harder they fell, and on occasion, when Shunsui felt poetic and took the time to really look around, it made him feel faintly uneasy to see the way the Gotei 13 seemed to be unravelling at the seams.

Once upon a time, when he was still climbing the ranks with Juushirou, Shunsui had always known that they would be able to turn to Yama-jii or even Retsu-senpai for guidance and assistance. Now though, with law after law piling up and the captains and even lieutenants garnering only distant awe-filled respect from the lower ranks, Shunsui had noticed that there weren't many Shinigami who would think to 'bother' their superiors with any personal concerns.

And _that_ bothered _him_.

"Taichou, is that the other Academy student coming with us?"

Shunsui blinked out of his ruminations, absently noting the slightly peculiar expression crossing Ichigo's face before he nodded in confirmation.

"Yes, that would be her," He verified as they pulled up beside the blonde sixth-year who hastily ducked into a bow. Shunsui stifled a sigh and quirked an amicable smile instead when she straightened. She was quite a looker too, curves in all the right places coupled with the beginnings of a coy edge in the way she tilted her head and smiled.

Lisa would slap him and Juushirou would scold him if they found out he was... _admiring_ an Academy student though.

"Ichigo-kun, Matsumoto Rangiku," Shunsui introduced as the blonde peered up at Ichigo, recognition dawning in her eyes. "Matsumoto-chan, this is Shiba Ichigo."

"Nice to meet you, Shiba-kun," Matsumoto greeted with a playful wink. "Not too shabby in the looks department for a first-year."

Shunsui hid his amusement when he detected some leftover apprehension in her outgoing flirtatious demeanour. She was learning at least. Matsumoto would certainly have a devastating effect on the male population of the Gotei 13 sooner or later.

On the other hand, Ichigo only nodded back curtly. "Nice to meet you, Matsumoto-san."

Shunsui fought the urge to facepalm. Kid wasn't all that good at flirting back, that was certain.

"Alright, you two, follow me," Shunsui instructed, deciding to spare Matsumoto the need to respond to Ichigo's rejection or plain obliviousness – even Shunsui wasn't quite sure which it was – when her cheeks pinked in subtle embarrassment as she fumbled for something to say.

"We'll be facing an unknown number of Hollows in District 64 in North Rukongai," Shunsui expounded as they shunpoed towards the North Gate. "Teams from both the Fifth and the Thirteenth will be there as well. You two will have to fight but you are to stay within a few feet of me at all times, understand?"

"Yes, sir!" came the chorused answer, and Shunsui nodded in approval.

A captain requesting backup wasn't a frequent occurrence but Shunsui was positive that the missive would've been much more urgent if the mission had taken _too_ many turns for the worse. Both students would be fine with so many experienced Shinigami coming along as well.

**{2}**

Rangiku was a little more nervous than Ichigo remembered but this _was_ over a century ago. The blonde hadn't even graduated yet. Still, it was a bit weird to not see the woman flirting expertly with every male in the vicinity. It _was_ good to see her alive and healthy and happy again though.

He took a quick peek at Haineko clipped on Rangiku's waist obi. He wondered if she had achieved Shikai yet. Either way, he'd have to keep an eye on her just in case. She had been one of his friends in the other timeline; one of the closer ones too. She hadn't survived to see the end of the war though, cut down by one of Aizen's strongest Arrancar, and Gin had gone the same way after he had found out about her death. The creepy fox of a double spy had snapped and gone on a rampage, slicing a line straight for Aizen. Needless to say, the idiot hadn't come back alive.

"Ichigo?"

Ichigo craned his head around at the familiar voice. Ah, it looked like the team from the Thirteenth Division had finally arrived.

"Kaien," Ichigo acknowledged stiffly, knowing that, in front of so many lower-ranked, possibly impressionable Shinigami, it would be bad to forego the proper military etiquette and pick a fight with his cousin again. Kaien was both a lieutenant and a clan head after all.

Kaien was also frowning harshly though, and Ichigo could see the quicksilver deductions in his cousin's expression as the lieutenant turned to give Shunsui a narrow-eyed stare, none of his typical teasing nature anywhere in sight. Even Shibas – Isshin came to mind – knew when to put a hold on their usual bullshit routine.

"Battle experience, Kaien-kun," Shunsui explained mildly.

"He's a first-year," Kaien protested, voice pitched low so that only the captain, Ichigo, and Rangiku, standing beside him, could hear.

"He's also slated to graduate next spring," Shunsui reminded Kaien. "You had your fair share of missions when you were a second-year."

"Yes, but that's-" Kaien cut himself off, shooting an unreadable look at Ichigo before exhaling shortly and nodding in grudging acceptance. "Alright, fine, I guess that's a fair call."

Shunsui nodded, and with the matter settled, the captain scanned the area with sharp eyes. "You're in charge of your squad?"

Kaien nodded again, brisk and efficient this time. "Ukitake-taichou's feeling a bit under the weather again."

"Alright then, fan out," Shunsui ordered, voice rising as the gate was pushed open. "We move out in two groups. Usual formation, Kaien-kun."

Kaien nodded sharply once more, and with a flick of his wrist as a gesture towards his subordinates, the Thirteenth squad moved out. However, the lieutenant did tack on in a voice that brooked no arguments, "Ichigo, with me for a moment."

Ichigo automatically scowled. Did his cousin think he couldn't handle himself?

Nevertheless, now was not the time to spout contradictions. Ichigo glanced questioningly at Shunsui who nodded his permission, waving him away before calling Matsumoto to his side instead.

Ichigo bounded ahead and pulled level with Kaien, keeping up with the general speed without difficulty.

Kaien didn't beat around the bush, though he did continue keeping his voice down. "Are you alright with this?"

Ichigo glared at him. "Of course."

The lieutenant rolled his eyes, countenance softening. "That's not what I mean, idiot. I found you in District 64, North Rukongai, remember? Are you sure you want to go back there so soon?"

Ichigo almost did a double-take. The Spirit King had dumped his... _background story's ass_ in District 64? What were the odds? The King had a twisted sense of humour.

"I- Yeah, I'll be fine, Kaien," Ichigo hurriedly assured.

This earned him a sidelong look of concern. "Are you absolutely certain, Ichigo? There's no shame in turning back now if you don't think you're ready. When I found you, you were bleeding _everywhere_. Even now, I'm still surprised you didn't die. I actually had to call in Unohana-taichou; the Clan doctors couldn't do shit. And even then, _Unohana-taichou_ of all people said it was a miracle you survived."

Ichigo said nothing for a moment, concentrating on each flash step instead. Had Kaien – and whoever else had been involved – been given the memories of Ichigo's injuries after his confrontation against Aizen? It would explain the worry; even Ichigo could admit that he had been far too close to death after that final battle. That point had been further driven home when even level-headed Shinji had panicked at the end over his wounds when they had been incarcerated together.

"I'm fine, and I'll be fine," Ichigo repeated at last. "Stop worrying; I know what I can handle."

Kaien levelled him with an assessing look. Ichigo glowered right back, daring his cousin to order him away. Kaien might be older than him but Ichigo was definitely stronger, and he'd faced down wannabe gods and monsters for several long years and come out on the winning side; no one else here could claim that much.

Kaien finally heaved a sigh of defeat. "Alright, alright, but take it easy and try not to do anything rash."

"I don't do rash things," Ichigo shot back.

_Much, anymore,_ he amended in his head.

Kaien snorted. "You're a Shiba; recklessness is in our blood."

The lieutenant punched him lightly on the arm before jabbing a finger back in the direction of Shunsui. "Get back over there, cousin. Keep a cool head and you'll be fine."

Ichigo suppressed the knee-jerk impulse to roll his eyes at Kaien's obvious concern as he shunpoed away. It was rather disconcerting if anything. Back in his time, there hadn't been many people who had actively worried about him, mainly because Ichigo had never needed worrying about.

The school bullies and town thugs who had once harassed him over his hair or his reputation? They got beaten up and sent to the hospital. His father had certainly never had to step in and discuss with the teachers any victimization on Ichigo's part.

(At least not after Ichigo's mother had died, though before that, it had been Masaki who had handled that sort of thing.)

Likewise, Soul Society and unfair laws, rogue Shinigami and traitorous bastards? Ichigo had always been able to deliver an ass-kicking when need be. Sometimes, it took him a while, but he always got there in the end.

He was strong, had gotten stronger every time someone had turned around, and it had soon become a given that Ichigo would always be able to stand up to whatever new crisis had been hitting Soul Society at the time. And if he didn't manage it the first time around, then he would indubitably grow strong enough to do so the second time.

That was the way of the world.

Kaien didn't know that though so Ichigo supposed it was only logical for his cousin to fuss over him, especially if Ichigo had apparently been found in that particular district.

As he fell back to Rangiku's side, Ichigo caught Shunsui's eye and, upon reading the silent question in the man's expression, nodded distractedly to signal that he was okay.

He glanced to the side when he felt another pair of eyes on him. "What is it?"

Rangiku flushed a little but pressed on boldly, "Is it true that you're really graduating in a year?"

Ichigo studied her for a moment. "Yeah."

In front of them, Shunsui, for some reason, shook his head in an exasperated manner. Rangiku however looked a bit put out at his one-word answer but forged on doggedly. "My friend, Gin; he also graduated in a year, and he was given a seated position in the Fifth when he joined the Gotei 13. Do you have a particular squad in mind? One you want to join when you graduate?"

Ichigo squinted at her. Well, Rangiku had always been chatty. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shunsui's head tilt a little, clearly listening in as well.

"I haven't really thought about it," Ichigo said. That wasn't completely true. There were only three captains he would be willing to serve under – Ukitake, Shunsui, and Shinji. Kisuke was pushing it; he'd die for the guy in a heartbeat but working for the future shopkeeper would drive him around the bend. Or to an early grave.

"Probably not the Thirteenth," He added when it looked like the blonde really wanted him to at least hold his end of the conversation. Rangiku nodded in quick comprehension. Entering the Thirteenth would undoubtedly put him in Kaien's shadow, whether either of them wanted that or not.

(Not to mention being in the Thirteenth wasn't going to help Ichigo much with the whole Aizen issue. They hadn't been all that involved with the whole Visored debacle as a whole.)

"Not the Twelfth," He continued practically, thoughts turning briefly onto Kisuke. "I'm not much of a scientist."

_Even though I've watched Kisuke work on one experiment or another for over half a decade,_ he mused with sardonic amusement.

"And not the Fourth or the Second," Ichigo concluded. "I'm pretty crap at Kidou, and I'm not assassin material."

"That still leaves quite a few divisions open for you to choose from," Rangiku returned enthusiastically, looking delighted _and_ relieved that Ichigo actually possessed the ability to make small talk.

"It depends on whether or not the captain accepts me," Ichigo pointed out.

Rangiku eyed him dubiously. "You're a genius, the second ever Shinigami to finish the Academy in a year. _Somebody's_ going to want you."

Ichigo shrugged, feeling a little awkward now. To his perplexity, Rangiku suddenly giggled.

"Ah, I get you now!" Rangiku snapped her fingers and grinned at him. "You're not stuck-up; you're just shy!"

Ichigo almost tripped mid-shunpo. He rounded on the blonde with a fierce scowl, ignoring the suspicious-sounding cough that came from Shunsui. "Why the hell would I be either?!"

Rangiku tapped her chin with one well-manicured finger. "Don't you listen to the rumours at the Academy? They say you're an arrogant bastard riding on your Clan Head's reputation. Because you ignore everyone at school."

Ichigo scoffed loudly. "If they had something other than 'do you think you can put in a good word for me to Shiba-fukutaichou', I might be inclined to talk to them."

Rangiku's grin widened. "But now I know you're just shy! And really antisocial!"

Ichigo shot her a blistering glare. "I am not. Don't go making things up."

Rangiku had the gall to give him a thumbs-up and another wink. "Don't worry, Shiba-kun; I won't spread your secret around."

"It's not even true!" Ichigo objected before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He knew from experience that Rangiku was harder to deter than a bulldozer. ...Then again, that might not be a good comparison. After all, he could cut a bulldozer in half with one swing of his sword. "Oh whatever. Think what you want."

Rangiku laughed, eyes warm. "You know, you're not so bad, Shiba-kun."

Ichigo just sighed. Up ahead, Shunsui chuckled quietly.

**{2}**

The clearing was a free-for-all Hollow melee. As soon as Kaien got rid of one, another replaced it a second later. He had already activated his Shikai, and water flew around him in graceful arches as he cut down another line of Hollows. Large groups like these were rare but it did happen, and it was damn troublesome to deal with.

There was a new kind of Hollow too, mixed in with the normal ones. They flickered rapidly in and out of existence like one of those static-y videos from the Human World, as if they were trying to turn invisible or something but couldn't quite accomplish it.

Thank god for small mercies.

Spinning and spearing another Hollow through its mask, Kaien spared a fraction of a second to seek out his cousin again, ensuring that the younger Shinigami was holding his own. However, Ichigo didn't even seem winded, even though they had joined the battle half an hour ago.

At this rate, the captains would have to unseal their Zanpakutou, and you knew things were bad if that had to happen.

Kaien glanced again at Ichigo. His baby cousin was frowning even more than usual, expression steadily darkening as he swiftly and expertly reduced the Hollow numbers around him, standing back to back with the other Academy student.

Kaien wondered if that was Ichigo's reaction to facing Hollows or his reaction to the place in general.

A Hollow shrieked from somewhere behind him and Kaien whirled around, slicing it in half. As he threw himself into the thick of what appeared to be a small army once again, Kaien took a quick inventory of everyone. None of his own men had died yet, and Kyouraku's squad was doing well too. Hirako's team on the other hand had already lost three members before they had arrived, leaving only two unseated officers, that young Third Seat Ichimaru, and Hirako himself.

Speaking of the Third Seat, Kaien flicked a surreptitious glance at the kid once more. Ichimaru was doing a good job covering Hirako's back but he was _still_ smiling away in that mildly disturbing manner.

Ah well. People coped in different ways, and the best Shinigami were a quirky bunch.

Kaien cut down yet another Hollow before shouting for his men to tighten their formation. It wouldn't do to let a Hollow slip through their ranks and attack from behind.

This was going to be a long night.

**{2}**

This wasn't supposed to be happening.

Ichigo didn't really know whether this had happened the first time around in the other timeline or if this was a deviation due to his arrival in this time.

Either way, the flickering Hollows looked awfully like defective prototypes of the invisible Hollows that Aizen had perfected and unleashed on Soul Society during the war. Even now, they each held a pulse of power that Ichigo would've recognized even if he had been blind, deaf, and dumb; these things undoubtedly carried traces of the Hogyoku.

He threw a swift glance over his shoulder. Rangiku was holding up well enough, though she was also tiring. She hadn't activated her Shikai so he guessed that she probably hadn't achieved it yet. Her swordsmanship was sharp and clean though, albeit a bit too conventional for his tastes, but she would eventually throw in some variation once she gained some experience.

He carelessly batted away three more Hollows coming in from his blind spot, cutting them down with barely a thought even as he searched the clearing, making sure Kaien was doing okay before moving on to the long-haired form of Hirako Shinji thirty feet away.

The Fifth Division captain was more than standing his ground but it was the Shinigami watching his back that Ichigo was eyeing mistrustfully. He knew that Gin was technically against Aizen but that didn't necessarily mean that he was on the Shinigami's side either, and right now, the Third Seat would undeniably trying to weasel as far as possible into Aizen's good graces. At this point in time, if Aizen said jump, Gin would be in the air before he asked how high.

Absently, Ichigo slashed down another Hollow, gaze finding Shinji once more. Something in his gut twisted painfully but he disregarded the ache. The blond looked... less burdened even in the midst of battle. Being Hollowfied and exiled would harden the captain even more in ways that several centuries spent in the relative safety of Seireitei would never do.

Ichigo's lips thinned and he took out a sudden burst of irritation on five oncoming Hollows, two of them flickering with migraine-inducing speed.

It wasn't fair. No matter what they eventually said in the future, wouldn't Shinji and the others be happier if they avoided being Hollowfied? And if Ichigo could stop it... what then?

No, he had to stick to the plan. The creation of Visored was one of the few stipulations that the Spirit King had laid out after all.

Ichigo shook himself out of his thoughts and speedily stepped into the path of a Hollow that had Rangiku in its sights.

"Thanks, Shiba-kun," Rangiku panted as she fended off another Hollow coming at her from the front. "You're really good at this."

"Meh," Ichigo calmly shattered another Hollow's mask with the hilt of his katana when it lunged at him. "You're not too bad yourself. It's just a matter of getting used to this sort of thing."

"And you are?" Rangiku huffed, ducking under the claws of a Hollow before driving her Zanpakutou up into its head. She didn't sound annoyed or demanding, more envious and inquisitive than anything else.

Ichigo grunted an affirmative. "Guess so-"

His head snapped around. One of the flickering Hollows had just completely disappeared. Ichigo could still see the faint outline of reiatsu delineating the Hollow of course; it was the only way one could tell where these Hollows were when they became invisible. Anyone who didn't know to look for it in the first place would miss it anyway.

And the thing was heading straight for Shinji from behind.

Shinji's _unprotected _back, because Gin had suddenly moved out of the way, silently shifting to stand several feet off to the left as he dispatched a few more Hollows, smile wide and eyes slitted open.

Now, it _could_ be a coincidence. At first glance, Gin looked to be engaged with a particularly bothersome Hollow. Too bad Ichigo had long since stopped believing in coincidence.

So what the hell was that snake doing moving even further away?

Within the span of one heartbeat and the next, Ichigo digested the scene across the clearing and ran through all the possible scenarios that could happen in the next few seconds.

These Hollows showing up was fishy enough but Aizen didn't do things without at least half a dozen reasons behind it. He wouldn't set these Hollows on a group of Shinigami just for the heck of entertainment or something equally revolting.

So did Aizen want to test how effective a Shinigami would hold up against a Hogyoku-empowered Hollow in battle? And not just that but a captain-class Shinigami to boot?

Not to mention with Shinji unaware of the danger most likely until the invisible Hollow was all but on top of him, the captain would almost certainly have to unseal his Zanpakutou to deflect the Hollow's up-close-and-personal, indiscernible cero, revealing his Shikai to Aizen pre-emptively.

And if this was what had happened the first time around, was that how Aizen had known how to counter Shinji's Zanpakutou? Ichigo refused to believe that one of the strongest captains' Shikai ability could be so easily defeated no matter what bullshit explanation Aizen had given. Having a century to sit on the information was certainly an advantage.

And hell, if nothing else, if the Hollow was ludicrously lucky and Shinji was outrageously _un_lucky and got himself killed, that was one less captain for Aizen to deal with.

Several birds with one stone. All bases covered. That was Aizen's style.

Another heartbeat. Blood roared in his ears as time seemed to slow even more.

Ichigo's foot twitched in the captain's direction, a surge of instinctual protectiveness welling up in his chest.

_Shinji_.

The noise of battle and screeching Hollows around him guaranteed that a warning shout wouldn't be heard.

But if Ichigo left his position now, Rangiku would be left wide open and there were dozens of Hollows bearing down on them. The blonde would be dead meat, or at least critically injured, especially with Shunsui busy with his own surrounding circle of Hollows several feet away, and Kaien also preoccupied.

Ichigo could pull it off though. If he released his Zanpakutou. The resulting outburst of his reiatsu would wipe out every Hollow within at least a ten-foot radius, giving him plenty of time to leave Rangiku's side and rush to Shinji's aid since Gin certainly had no intention of doing so.

One last heartbeat. Time seemed to stand still, holding its breath as the future remained uncertain.

Ichigo made up his mind.

"Darkness falls and the heavens weep," He started in a tight murmur, angling his blade in front of him.

"Shiba-kun?" Behind him, Rangiku sounded confused. On the side, Kaien suddenly glanced over, falling back a little against six Hollows coming at him from all sides.

"Blood moon rises and the skies are torn asunder!" Ichigo's voice rose as he felt his reiatsu stir. He could almost taste Shiro's eagerness and Zangetsu's own composed anticipation. "Step forward, Zangetsu!"

And the world exploded.

Ichigo's signature crimson-edged black reiatsu erupted around him for the first time in over half a year, the immense amount of energy swirling around him and eviscerating all the Hollows it touched as it stretched out as if stretching its wings after months of keeping them strapped away.

And inside the dark cocoon circling around him, his katana separated into two, his lighter trench knife dropping into his left hand while his larger Khyber knife formed within his right. The comforting weights of both blades – Zangetsu at his left; Shiro at his right – felt perfect in Ichigo's grasp.

It felt like freedom, and for the first time since Ichigo had landed in this time, he felt like he had regained a bit of what he had once called home.

For now however, Ichigo was moving even before his reiatsu had died down, flying over the forest floor with the wind howling in his ears as his Shunpo hit his usual blurring speeds.

He didn't hesitate, his battle-hardened instincts and skill urging him onwards as he slid fluidly between the invisible Hollow and Shinji.

He sensed more than saw Shinji whirl around, evidently startled, but Ichigo paid him no mind, concentrating on the task at hand instead.

His eyes narrowed on the near-imperceptible form of the approaching Hollow, and without wavering, he brought up Zangetsu to block the downward lethal strike of the Hollow's steel-like claws, blocking the attack effortlessly.

It flickered into existence again with a scream of rage. Huh. Still faulty. The perfected invisible Hollows _stayed_ invisible even after it was hit. Sometimes, they had even dissipated without anyone ever seeing their forms at all.

Ichigo didn't wait around for another – futile – assault. In the blink of an eye, he swung Shiro around in an upward arc, cleaving straight through the Hollow from bottom to top.

Blood sprayed in the air, and Ichigo automatically crowded backwards to herd Shinji away as the Hollow toppled, crashing to the ground even as it began to dissolve.

Ichigo watched it dispassionately as he released a quiet breath and rolled his shoulders. Black reiatsu continued looping around both his blades, not quite ready to fall completely under Ichigo's control again after having been unable to cut loose for so many months.

Ichigo didn't mind. He had never kept his reiatsu under such a tight lid for so long since he had _discovered_ reiatsu back when he had been fifteen. At the moment, he felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Hollows were naturally destructive beings after all so it wasn't all that healthy for Ichigo to keep his reiatsu under wraps for such a long time. It made him restless and tense.

He blinked, and then finally registered the fact that aside from a handful of Hollows shrieking in the distance, the clearing was dead silent.

Ichigo inwardly cursed, and then hastily took a few steps to the left when he realized that he was unknowingly standing right next to Shinji. He was used to the man's presence in his own timeline, but right now, the blond was supposed to be both a stranger _and_ a captain. Ichigo was only an Academy student.

_Don't look at him_, he told himself, avoiding eye contact with the blond captain while trying to make it look like he wasn't doing it on purpose. _Seeing him's one thing; you'd probably slip up and blurt something you should definitely not say if you talk to him._

So he focused on clamping down on his reiatsu instead. It had to be done sometime, and while he had learned how to hide his reiatsu signature over the years, it still didn't come as naturally for him as it did pretty much everyone else.

Unfortunately, in the ensuing ringing silence, the whispers started.

"Oh my god, did you see that?"

"_See_? Did you _feel_ that? That guy's reiatsu is crazy powerful!"

"And it's black! Who has black reiatsu?"

"Nevermind that; look at his Zanpakutou! He's a dual-blade wielder! There hasn't been one since Kyouraku-taichou and Ukitake-taichou!"

"Isn't he just an Academy student?"

"He's a Shiba though. I hear the newest one that entered the Academy is also a genius."

Ichigo's mouth tilted down. Wonderful. Just what he needed. It wasn't like he was the _only_ one wielding two blades. Just because the other two happened to be captains, people just had to blow it out of proportion.

His hands tightened around his Zanpakutou, hefting Shiro up to rest the large blade against one shoulder. Largely disregarding the mutters around him, he inspected the clearing, noting that the only Hollows left were hovering beyond the far tree line, subdued and cowed.

Heck, some of them were ripping open Gargantas and fleeing for their lives.

His gaze paused on Shunsui who was studying him with great interest from under the brim of his sakkat, a surprisingly pleased smile curving his lips as the man took in both Ichigo and his two blades.

Rangiku was gaping openly, eyes wide with shock.

And Gin was no longer smiling, eerie blue gaze settled directly on Ichigo.

_Yeah, go tell your boss,_ Ichigo prodded silently. _I bet Aizen would just love to hear this. I guess my life's just been put on the line. That bastard will either try to recruit me or kill me._

Perhaps not so surprisingly, it was Kaien who stepped in to fill the stilted hush, Zanpakutou sealed again as he barked at the lower-ranked Shinigami, "Hey, if you have time to stand around and gossip, go make yourselves useful and chase down the last of the Hollows. Hurry up!"

The Shinigami booked it, scooting off to do as they were told under Kaien's menacing glare and uncompromising stance. Gin was the last to leave, eyes lingering on Ichigo for a moment longer before smiling once more and motioning for Rangiku to follow him. At a nod from Shunsui, the two took off into the surrounding forest, leaving Ichigo to deal with two captains and a lieutenant by himself.

In the next second, Kaien was striding over, agitation in every line of his body as he rushed over to Ichigo.

"Shit, I told you not to do anything rash!" Kaien halted in front of him, scanning him for injuries. "And what do you do? You go and do something rash!"

"Technically, you told me to _try_ not to do anything rash," Ichigo couldn't help pointing out, relaxing a little now that there wasn't much of a need to maintain appearances anymore. "And besides, I didn't. That was a very calculated move."

"Calculated?!" Kaien squawked. "You blew across the clearing in half a second, and your reiatsu _wiped out_ every Hollow within twenty feet of us. And _then_ you almost got yourself mauled by that... invisible Hollow thing! Where in that did you have time to calculate anything?"

Ichigo stared at him before smirking dryly. "Well, cousin, not all of us needs to have a sit-down before their brain kicks in. It's called thinking on your feet. I'm sure I can dig up a book about it for you somewhere."

"Oh, haha, very funny," Kaien scowled. "Look, I told you to take it easy. Do you have any idea what Kukaku would do to me if you were to have a relapse or something?"

Ichigo clicked his tongue in irritation. "Do I look like I'm about to keel over? I'm fine. The only thing I did was _unseal my Zanpakutou_. Now I might be wrong, but last time I checked, that's a fairly common thing for a Shinigami to do."

"There's a thing called reiatsu exhaustion!" Kaien said defensively.

Ichigo snorted, idly twirling his trench knife in his left hand. "Kaien, you felt my reiatsu just now. It would take a lot more than a single Hollow to bring me to that point."

"You can never be too careful!" Kaien lectured, crossing his arms stubbornly. "And I can't have you collapsing on my watch. You're my baby cous- oof!"

Ichigo nonchalantly retracted Zangetsu from where he had just jabbed the hilt into his cousin's stomach none too gently. Kaien doubled over, wheezing.

Ichigo smiled, brittle and deceptively serene. "_Don't_ call me a baby ever again or I'll drown you in the swamp."

Kaien sputtered, patting his torso gingerly as he straightened again. "Isn't that a bit harsh, Ichi?"

Ichigo cocked his head in mock thought before nodding sagely. "You're right; the swamp hasn't done anything to deserve getting you dunked into it."

Kaien puffed up indignantly even as a reluctant light of laughter glinted in his eyes. But as he opened his mouth to argue back, someone clearing their throat interrupted their argument-turned-banter.

"Kaien-kun, Ichigo-kun, perhaps you could leave the family spats for later," Shunsui admonished mildly, amused but stern.

Kaien rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as he moved to stand beside Ichigo. Ichigo grunted noncommittally.

"That was nicely done, Ichigo-kun," Shunsui remarked, coming to a stop in front of them.

Ichigo nodded somewhat stiffly. In his peripheral vision, he watched as Shinji sauntered forward to join Shunsui, Sakanade tucked away again.

Adjusting to Shunsui was bad enough; having both of them in front of him was like a slap to the face. Ichigo fought to keep the bitter grimace off his face, dropping his gaze to his Zanpakutou instead.

Wistfully, he flipped the trench knife into the air, and as it descended again, it melted out of existence as he caught it with his Khyber knife. A flick of his wrist later and only a simple black-hilted katana remained. Without further fanfare, he sheathed it through the sash at his waist once more.

Beside him, Kaien grumbled a little. "You didn't tell me you achieved Shikai."

Ichigo rolled his eyes at the sullen tone. "You never asked."

"I shouldn't have to!"

"What, 'cause you're Clan Head? Deflate your head a bit, cousin."

"What?! That's not what I meant! You should be the one skipping happily home to tell your family all about it. And then we'd throw a party!"

"Okay, one, I don't skip. And two, if the rest of the family is just like you, I'm not going anywhere near the Shiba compound. I'll be scarred for life."

"What's that supposed to mean? You realize you're breaking our hearts by dissociating yourself from-"

"Are they always like this?"

Kaien abruptly shut up, and Ichigo's muscles involuntarily tensed. In front of them, Shinji was grinning a little, the Cheshire cat smile so familiar that Ichigo had to swallow hard and stomp down firmly on a wave of nostalgia and grief.

Perhaps Shinji caught some of it because the grin faded just a little. The captain didn't make any mention of it though, examining Ichigo closely instead. "So you're Shiba Ichigo. I've heard good things about ya. Good ta see it's not all rumour. Thanks for the save earlier."

Ichigo scrambled for a suitable response. "I- Thank you for saying so, Hirako-taichou. And it was no problem."

Shinji grinned again, disarmingly good-natured even as his eyes gauged Ichigo's reactions. "Heh, manners don't suit ya for some reason. You're an interestin' kid; when are ya graduatin'?"

Ichigo blinked. "Uh, coming spring."

Shinji nodded thoughtfully, brown eyes glittering. "Keep my Division in mind then. I'll even throw in a seated position as incentive."

Ichigo's jaw almost dropped. What? Shinji was willing to offer him a seated position just like that?

Shunsui chuckled from the side. "Hirako, don't you already have a prodigy on your squad?"

Shinji waved a dismissive hand. "Who cares? That was more Aizen-chan's choice really, not mine. I like this one better."

Ichigo sweatedropped, and then immediately followed it up with a scowl when Kaien butted in mulishly, "Well wherever he goes, the captain better take good care of him."

Ichigo elbowed him hard. "I can take care of myself, bastard."

"He's right, actually," Shunsui interjected. "Captains have a duty to look out for their subordinates."

_Except I've always done the looking out,_ Ichigo thought wryly but said nothing out loud.

"Speakin' of which," Shinji sighed, gaze finally turning away to the three dead Shinigami scattered around the clearing. "I've got bodies to clean up and letters to their families to write. It's gonna be a long night."

Ichigo's brow creased. It was one of the nastier jobs of a captain. He could attest to it. It had once been one of his jobs as well.

Still, it was a captain's responsibility, and while Ichigo would've liked to offer to help out no matter how detestable the job, he also knew from experience that this was something captains had to do themselves.

So, instead, he followed Kaien into the forest to track down anymore remaining Hollows. It was a bit of a relief to be away from the two captains as well so Ichigo wasn't complaining.

Kaien, thankfully, seemed to pick up on Ichigo's mood because the lieutenant didn't start fretting or teasing him again. He did speak though.

"Ichigo?"

Ichigo glanced to the side. "Yeah?"

Kaien's gaze was sombre. "Are you considering joining the Fifth?"

Ichigo blinked. "...I suppose."

His cousin ran a hand through his hair. "Well, that's your choice. But... be careful."

Ichigo frowned. "You don't trust-" _Not Shinji, moron_. "-Hirako-taichou?"

Kaien looked at him again, eyes narrowed. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. "Not him, Ichi. Just... don't take everything you hear about the lieutenant at face value, understand?"

Ichigo stilled, slowly craning his head around to stare at his cousin. Kaien had already moved ahead though, katana drawn once more.

So even a century ago, Shinji hadn't been the only one who had been suspicious of Aizen Sousuke. Was that perhaps why Kaien had eventually been killed? Because he had somehow gotten too close to the hidden truth and Aizen had had to get rid of him?

Ichigo set off after his cousin. No matter. Either way, Kaien was family now, annoying though he was. Ichigo wasn't going to let Aizen get away with that murder again.

He'd just have to be even more careful from here on out.

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**Please leave a review on your way out.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Bleach.**

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**General Warnings:** AU, GEN, Time/Dimension Travel, Ichigo-centric, violence, language.

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**Chapter 3**

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Shunsui breezed in through the office door at eight-thirty in the morning. "Juu-chan, guess what I found last night."

Juushirou took one look at the somewhat boyishly devious edge in his best friend's smile and promptly wished he had something stronger than tea on hand. The last time Shunsui had looked like that (decades ago), Juushirou had ended up with the mother of all hangovers the next day.

"What did you find last night, Shunsui?" Juushirou asked obligingly because Shunsui actually looking excited was both a once-in-a-blue-moon occurrence _and_ a potentially headache-inducing situation that would be best if it was over and done with as soon as possible.

Shunsui, most likely ignoring Juushirou's increasing trepidation, took a seat in one of the spare chairs, smile widening even further. "You won't believe this, Juu-chan. You know the mission last night?"

Juushirou nodded cautiously, reluctantly curious now at the genuine light of enthusiasm in Shunsui's eyes. "Yes, I sent Kaien out with a team, but he got back late last night, and he has some Clan business to take care of this morning as well, so I haven't seen him yet. Actually, his report should be..."

Juushirou reached for one of the files that he had yet to look through, only for Shunsui's hand to slap down on top of it, keeping it shut.

Juushirou glanced up, mildly alarmed. "Shunsui, should I be concerned?"

Shunsui waved his free hand. "Of course not; you worry too much. But trust me – you'd rather hear this from me than read it from some boring sheets of paper that should've done the world a favour ages ago and flushed themselves down the toilet."

Juushirou resisted the urge to roll his eyes; he'd probably strain himself trying to express the sheer depths of his exasperation. Shunsui and paperwork had never gotten along.

"Okay," He sighed, giving his best friend a pointed look. "What is it then?"

Shunsui settled back in his seat, an air of triumph around him. "On the mission last night, I brought along two Academy students; for field experience of course."

"Of course," Juushirou echoed wryly, already guessing Shunsui's next revelation. "Incidentally, one of them wouldn't happen to be Ichigo-kun, would it?"

Shunsui flashed an utterly unrepentant grin. "You know me too well, Juu-chan. But it was a good decision, and I brought along another one as well – Matsumoto Rangiku. She's not bad, all things considered."

Shunsui paused and shook his head. "I'm getting off-topic. During the battle, a new type of Hollow – ones that can turn invisible, it seems, or attempting to anyway; I'm sure Yama-jii will hold a meeting about that soon – anyway, it attempted to sneak up on Hirako. Ichigo-kun apparently saw but I believe he was unwilling to leave Matsumoto-chan alone so he chose to unseal his Zanpakutou."

Juushirou's eyebrows rose. "He's already achieved it? I don't think even Ichimaru-kun managed that until just before he graduated."

Shunsui leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "I haven't even gotten to the good part yet. Ichigo-kun's Zanpakutou is like ours, Juu-chan. He's a dual-blade wielder."

Juushirou stilled, eyes widening with astonishment. "Seriously? There hasn't been one since the two of us! His Zanpakutou's sealed form is a single katana, right?"

Shunsui nodded. "Like yours, not mine, when it comes to that. But it definitely separates into two blades, a trench knife and a Khyber knife, both entirely black. And you should've seen his reiatsu when he activated Shikai. It was coloured red and black, and it took out every single Hollow within a twenty-foot radius. His reserves are insanely high."

"He must have a tight control over his reiatsu then," Juushirou mused thoughtfully. "I didn't sense anything of the sort when I met him."

"Neither did I," Shunsui concurred. "That aside though, he's still a dual-blade wielder."

Juushirou frowned, an inkling of where this was going forming in his mind, partly because he knew Shunsui almost better than his best friend knew himself, and partly because... well, because Juushirou was thinking it himself. "And...?"

Shunsui's gaze sharpened with the steely fire that most people never even glimpsed in their lifetime. "We're going to have to steal him."

"What?!" Juushirou couldn't help yelping. He had expected something along the lines of 'I want him for my squad', not... "Shunsui, tell me you're joking. How do you propose _stealing_ an Academy student?"

Shunsui, obviously seeing Juushirou's impending refusal to take part in his newest scheme, threw in a sullen pout for good measure. Juushirou pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Well, we don't have any other choice," His best friend insisted mulishly. "HIrako already staked him out last night. That guy even reserved a seated position for Ichigo-kun as a bribe! And when Yama-jii finds out, even he might try to snatch up Ichigo-kun as another protégé, never mind the other captains when they hear about him."

Juushirou heaved a long-suffering sigh. How someone with as many centuries under their belt as Shunsui could be so childish at times, he would never understand.

"He's already turned down your squad though," Shunsui added, looking apologetic.

Juushirou nodded, unsurprised. "I would be happy to have him in my Division but with his cousin as my lieutenant, I very much doubt Ichigo-kun would want to enter the Thirteenth as well."

"He's also ruled out the Second, Fourth, and Twelfth," Shunsui listed. "He hasn't turned down the Eighth though. What do you think? Should I offer him a seated position too?"

Juushirou suppressed an amused smile. "You usually don't like accepting any of the male population into your squad; Lisa is normally the one stuck with convincing you to let some of them in."

Shunsui waved a dismissive hand. "Well I didn't particularly like any of _their_ assets; women are so much nicer to look at. But you know I'd snap Kaien-kun up in a heartbeat if you ever dumped him-"

The man snickered when Juushirou automatically scowled at this.

"-and I like Ichigo-kun as well," Shunsui continued good-humouredly. "I already have a lieutenant though, so I suppose I'll have to make him my Third Seat. It's currently vacant right now."

"It would be Ichigo-kun's choice in the end if he gets offers from more than one division, Shunsui," Juushirou reminded him.

"You're right," Shunsui agreed with suspicious ease. Juushirou almost facepalmed when the other captain tacked on matter-of-factly, "So what else can I bribe him with? It has to be better than Hirako's offer. What do you think he likes? He doesn't seem the type to want a supply of sake."

"You are not going to _bribe_ him, Shunsui!" Juushirou exclaimed in exasperation. "_Especially_ not with _alcohol_!"

"Books then? Some _adult_ reading material are often appreciated by Academy graduates," Shunsui continued, the corners of his eyes crinkling with shameless laughter, and Juushirou knew that his best friend was simply teasing now. "Undergraduates too for that matter."

He really did roll his eyes this time. "Even if you managed to wrangle him into your squad, Shunsui, I really can't see Kaien letting you corrupt him."

Shunsui chuckled, leaning back in his seat at last. "No doubt. Your lieutenant magically turns into a mother hen whenever Ichigo-kun is involved."

Juushirou couldn't help laughing at that, a passing image of Kaien fluttering around a progressively more annoyed Ichigo, feathery and fretting, surfacing in his mind. "Kaien is naturally protective of those he cares about, and Ichigo-kun is new to his family. No doubt, he just wants to make sure his cousin is settling in smoothly."

He paused, considering Shunsui's scheming expression before suggesting firmly, "There will be no stealing or bribery or any other criminal activities involved, Shunsui. If you want, perhaps we could talk to Hirako today. He does likes his jokes, and Aizen-fukutaichou is usually the one who handles most of the new recruits entering the Fifth. Maybe Hirako was just making fun. He isn't the type to offer rewards even if someone saves his life."

Kyouraku sighed dolefully and shook his head, a mildly puzzled frown marring his features. "Actually, I think he was completely serious. I've never seen Hirako take a liking to someone that quickly. He's usually more suspicious."

They exchanged a silent, weighty look. Juushirou didn't need to be a mind-reader or Shunsui's best friend to know that they were both thinking about the Fifth Division vice-captain. They had never found any proof to support their misgivings – Aizen was kind, polite, intelligent, and well-respected; the role model for every up-and-coming Shinigami – yet there had always been something... _off_ about him that rubbed Juushirou and Shunsui the wrong way even though they had never really discussed it.

Hirako was no different; the blond captain, behind his grin and taunts and laidback simplicity, had always been a man who instinctively triple-checked everything with shrewd insight and calculating practicality. Hirako wasn't a genius but he was by no means stupid either; he was typically a good judge of character, a frighteningly nasty-minded tactician when he applied his brain, and a very powerful Shinigami in his own right. Only idiots and madmen would cross Hirako Shinji.

So, one night, during which the three of them had been relaxing with sake and small talk, when Hirako had... _implied_ that he had only taken on Aizen to keep a closer eye on him, Juushirou and Shunsui had both been understandably worried.

Captains and lieutenants were supposed to be close, a working pair who trusted each other both in battle and out. No matter how good Hirako was, his reservations about Aizen would most likely put a wall between them, and if Hirako's concerns were founded, that would only serve to alert Aizen of it.

Hirako had assured them – not in so many words – that he could handle it though, and in the end, it was Fifth Division business. For now anyway. There was nothing anyone could do until they had substantial proof.

"Do you think he distrusts Ichigo-kun as well?" Juushirou enquired with a disapproving frown. Perhaps he was biased what with Kaien being his lieutenant but Ichigo had never struck him as someone who would stab them all in the back at the first opportunity. The boy chaffed at the bounds of authority and was more free-spirited than anyone Juushirou had ever met but there had been certain subtle aspects that had made liking Ichigo very easy, small things like training Shunsui's cousin with more dedication than was strictly necessary, and bickering with Kaien like a pair of squabbling children.

"No," Shunsui decided thoughtfully. "Hirako seemed to genuinely like him. Although come to think of it, Ichigo-kun was... surprisingly protective of someone he's never met before. I suppose Hirako might've responded to that subconsciously."

Shunsui chuckled a little, the sound less humorous and more bemused. "You should've seen Ichigo-kun; he wouldn't even let the resulting spray of blood touch Hirako. Ichigo-kun herded him back like a... mother hen with her chick."

Shunsui grinned at him. "Do you think mother hen traits are hereditary in the Shiba family?"

Juushirou couldn't quite smother the laughter that welled up at that question. "I wouldn't be surprised. Try not to mention that in front of Ichigo-kun though. He might lose his temper with you."

"And he'd have no qualms yelling at a captain," Shunsui said mournfully. "You know, I think, as captains, we should care more about that." The glint of amusement in his eyes gave him away. "Anyway, if you're not going to let me have any fun, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to meet up with Hirako later. Anyone else would've jumped at the offer; Ichigo-kun never actually said yes."

"Ichigo-kun is... different," Juushirou agreed, reaching for his paperwork once more. "Now I have work to do so no more socializing. Out, now."

Shunsui sighed dramatically but levered himself to his feet and headed for the door. "Leave your afternoon open. I'm going to talk to Hirako and see if he wants to meet up with us later. Kaien-kun will probably want to come as well."

And before Juushirou can remind him that this entire matter didn't really have anything to do with the Thirteenth Division at all, Shunsui had hightailed out of the office, not giving Juushirou a chance to object.

Juushirou nearly threw his hands in the air before shaking his head and focusing on the day's work. Shunsui wouldn't be Shunsui if he wasn't forever trying to duck out of doing his paperwork.

**{3}**

"Good morning, Shiba-kun!"

Ichigo froze, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. A moment later, a slap to the back that almost jolted him forward and into the bowl of ramen in his hands and would've most likely caused him to choke made him very thankful that he had momentarily stopped eating.

As a rule, Ichigo ate alone. Most students got their food from the Academy cafeteria, and while it was nowhere near five-star, it was leagues better than the rations Ichigo had had to live off of more and more often over the course of the war when there hadn't been time to leave Hueco Mundo and get a decent meal in Seireitei.

Still, just because he got his food from the cafeteria didn't mean he had to stay there. It was too loud what with all the other students chattering with one another, and the first and only time Ichigo had sat in one corner of the canteen, people had either stared, pointed, whispered, or strutted up to him and boasted about something or other that Ichigo had tuned out before they had even uttered a single syllable.

So he had taken to sitting outside instead, on a bench in a secluded corner of the wide courtyard under a cherry blossom tree. And he _didn't_ appreciate being disturbed.

"What do you want?" He growled, straightening and pinning the intruder's bright smile with a glare.

Rangiku paid him no mind, flopping gracefully down on the bench beside him, a tray of food in her own hands. "So how has your day been so far?"

"It was fine. Now it's getting progressively worse," Ichigo muttered, not caring how rude he sounded. He hadn't had a good night's sleep last night, not after getting a full doze of Hollows and Shinji and even Rangiku.

Rangiku just pouted before barrelling on without the slightest sign of discouragement. "Don't be like that, Shiba-kun. My day hasn't exactly been rainbows and sunshine either; my muscles were so sore this morning! They still are! And my Zanjutsu teacher was as merciless as always. I swear you've gotten the better end of the deal with Koyonagi-sensei."

Ichigo inwardly sighed before glancing sidelong at his new lunch companion. Clearly, she wasn't going to leave anytime soon. "Koyonagi isn't my Zanjutsu teacher."

Actually, he didn't even _attend_ Zanjutsu classes anymore (and he was more a teacher than a student in his Hakuda classes). Koyonagi had pulled him when Ichigo had gotten so damn bored that he had started deflecting the other students' sword strikes with his bare hands just so Shiro wouldn't be able to goad him into taking them out with one sweep of his blade. Now he was only required to spar with Koyonagi or another instructor during his Zanjutsu block, and on occasion, step in to one of the Zanjutsu classes as an extra sparring partner for the other students.

"Yeah, but he likes you, and Koyonagi-sensei is famous for not really liking anybody," Rangiku pointed out, and then hastily added, "I mean, not in a creepy pedophile way, of course, though I suppose he's not _that_ old, and we _are_ all Shinigami, but the point is, he's fond of you."

Ichigo frowned, ignoring the last bit because... well, as much as he hated to admit it, he respected Koyonagi enough to not even consider the man being a pedophile, not to mention he had never gotten that vibe from the instructor anyway, and age _was_ sort of relative when you were a Shinigami.

"What do you mean?" He prodded dubiously instead. "Koyonagi's laidback as all hell. He's overly friendly with _everyone_."

Rangiku just laughed, eyeing him with sympathetic amusement. "You really don't interact much with the rest of the student body, do you? Look, you know how you don't even refer to him with an honorific? And I think you call him other... less than polite names as well."

Ichigo shrugged and nodded. True enough. "So? He doesn't mind. Bastard calls me Ichi-kun or Ichi-chan all the time too."

Rangiku giggled, amusement growing. "Yes, exactly, but he's not that lenient with anyone else, or that familiar. Sure, he smiles all the time and he _acts_ friendly, but the sixth-year students he teaches are all terrified of him and never speaks a single bad word about him because he always finds out and ends up humiliating them in class. Even the other instructors are a little edgy around him. He always gets his revenge if a student steps too far out of line or a teacher takes a too-hard jab at him behind his back – humiliates students and fellow instructors alike, and I hear the worst he's ever gotten is a slap on the wrist. And as far as anyone knows, you're the only exception. Nobody understands it either since it's obviously not just because you're a prodigy; the people who entered the Academy with Gin all remember that Koyonagi didn't particularly like him more than anyone else."

Ichigo stared at her, teetering between incredulity that the Academy rumour mill is _that_ well-informed and irritation over whatever the hell Koyonagi was playing at. It wasn't as if Ichigo was special or anything (that people knew of anyway; the time travel thing was pretty damn special); he was just more powerful, and Gin had been like that too (though granted, Ichigo was a lot stronger than that). Still, Koyonagi didn't spend time with him just because Ichigo was _strong_; he could see that much. Half the time, the man hunted him down just for the heck of it, bothering him like an annoying fly that simply wouldn't go away.

"You two..." Rangiku continued musing, tapping a finger against her cheek. "When people actually _see_ the both of you in public – because you're a recluse like that and he's... well, _him_ – you two act more like you're... like you're friends rather than teacher and student. Somewhat _violent_ friends, especially on your part, but friends nonetheless."

Well wasn't that just all kinds of fucked up. He and Koyonagi weren't _friends_. They were... unfortunate acquaintances.

"We're not friends," Ichigo felt he had to voice this out loud, but it didn't help anyway since Rangiku only grinned smugly at him, and Ichigo had to look away because she just looked so damn carefree all of a sudden, happy in a way he hadn't seen since Gin had returned to their side in the future war and had kissed her in broad daylight after she had beaten the crap out of him for his stupid double agent plan, and it was definitely screwing with Ichigo's mind.

"Say what you will but the evidence is there," Rangiku sang sagely, oblivious to Ichigo's sudden nosedive of depressing thoughts. She paused to swallow a mouthful of her own ramen before glancing at him again. "But never mind that; I hear you're mentoring someone for extra credit? Courtesy of Koyonagi-sensei again, of course."

Ichigo shot her a sideways glower but she had sounded playfully teasing so he dropped it in favour of grumbling, "My Kidou's not quite up to par; I'm tutoring Fujiwara as compensation."

Rangiku frowned thoughtfully. "Fujiwara... Asuka? That girl from... um... one of the minor Noble Houses?"

"Kyouraku," Ichigo revealed shortly. He glanced sharply at her. Future friend and practically surrogate older (sometimes younger; Shinigami could be so immature) sister or no, he had enough trouble getting _Fujiwara_ to stop talking crap about herself. "Problem?"

Rangiku blinked in surprise and quickly waved a placating hand. "No, no, of course not! You're a really suspicious guy, aren't you? I don't care that she's-" Her voice pitched down to a low whisper. "-a bastard child-" Her voice returned to normal. "-or anything, but I've never talked to her either."

Ichigo grunted noncommittally and went back to his lunch. "She's a year below you, right?"

Rangiku nodded, chopsticks absently picking out the few carrots in her ramen as she wrinkled her nose at them. "But school gossip, you know? Dirty laundry is _aired_ laundry at the Academy."

Even Ichigo had to release a bark of sardonic laughter at this. That was a universal truth in every establishment. People could be so nosy.

"So hey, about last night," Rangiku rambled on after a sip of water. "When did you achieve Shikai?"

Ichigo grimaced, humour ebbing. He had known this was coming. It was just his luck that Koyonagi hadn't caught up with him yet.

"I've been able to do it for a while now," He answered evasively. "You haven't yet?"

Rangiku huffed, looking dismayed. "No, I haven't, and it's been six years. Gin got his in a year, and you obviously have yours already."

"Most people don't achieve Shikai until after they graduate from all six years of school," Ichigo offered in an awkward attempt at reassuring her. "You weren't bad last night. ...Your style was sort of predictable though since you just stick with what the Academy teaches."

The last bit was thrown in as an involuntary afterthought but Ichigo figured that making the problem known would only help Rangiku in the long run.

Rangiku looked mildly confused. "What else am I supposed to stick to?"

Ichigo hesitated, and then waved a hand in the general direction of the districts for emphasis. "Throw in some variation. You know, improvise. Sometimes, the enemy's going to take you off-guard, and if you can't think on your feet, you're screwed."

"Hmm," A crafty smile made its way onto Rangiku's face that instantly made Ichigo wary. "Then maybe you can show me."

Ichigo eyed her cautiously, alarm bells clanging in his head. "Show you?"

Rangiku's smile widened. "Yup! We can spar together in our free time. In fact, I could just swing by when you're teaching Fujiwara-chan, and then we can spar afterwards! So you can correct me when I'm being too predictable."

Ichigo mentally slapped himself. He shouldn't have said anything to begin with; what was wrong with him?

"I don't think-" He started.

"It's agreed then!" Rangiku chirped, hopping to her feet with her finished meal. "Where do you train her? Actually, I'll just go ask Fujiwara-chan. I wouldn't want you to accidentally give me the wrong place! See you later, Shiba-kun!"

And the blonde waved and sped away, leaving Ichigo staring after her with open-mouthed horror.

"Why the hell can't people just leave me alone?" He asked no one in particular as he thought of Koyonagi and Kaien and now Rangiku. He froze when he heard another familiar voice hollering from somewhere on his left.

"Ichi-chaan! _When_ were you going to tell me you had achieved Shikai?"

Speak of the devil.

Ichigo took no shame in his next actions. He ran away at his fastest Shunpo.

**{3}**

Today just wasn't his day.

Ichigo gritted his teeth and picked up his pace. His classes were finished for the day and he had decided to take a walk around Seireitei, maybe buy some dango on his way, instead of staying cooped up in his room or the library as he usually did.

He hadn't expected to catch sight of Kukaku fifteen minutes into his walk. Even worse, the woman had caught sight of _him_. His orange hair really did him no favours.

So now here he was, trying to outmanoeuvre his cousin through the crowded streets, but the woman had an uncanny knack for honing in on Ichigo's muted reiatsu signature and enough obstinacy to keep his hair within her line of sight. If Ichigo took off in a flit of Shunpo, then the woman would undoubtedly realize that he really was trying to avoid her. While Ichigo would be able to dodge out of facing her this time, he would most definitely be in for an earful when she inevitably managed to corner him in the future, and that was just too troublesome to contemplate. His best bet was to lose her amongst the other citizens out and about.

He rounded a corner, and then promptly cursed his luck when he found himself on a street where the crowd was much thinner. Wonderful.

He glanced around frantically for somewhere to hide. If it was just Kukaku, he could stand seeing her again. But the woman would almost certainly drag him back to the Shiba compound where he would most likely have to lay eyes on Isshin.

His damn father who hadn't been much of a father but had still been the only one he had, the one who had told Ichigo how proud he was to have him for a son, how proud his mother would be of him, that they both loved him very much, and that no matter what happened, he should live his life and live it well.

The same one who, mere seconds after saying all that, had thoroughly bound Ichigo with Kidou and tossed him through a Senkaimon right before Aizen had shattered Engetsu and destroyed the entire _block_ that the Kurosaki house had been part of, instantly killing Isshin and Ichigo's two sisters who had already been trapped behind an impenetrable seal courtesy of Aizen himself.

So Ichigo didn't particularly feel like meeting his father again anytime soon, especially this younger version who hadn't met Masaki yet, and probably hadn't even _thought_ about the idea of having children; Isshin would either be more or less mature, and Ichigo didn't know which one would be worse. Besides, Ichigo himself wasn't sure whether he felt more like crying or punching his old man in the face if and when he did bump into Isshin again.

So, just, no. No Kukaku.

He squinted ahead, recognizing the Eighth Division barracks. He blew out a frustrated breath. It felt like he spent half his life coming back to this place; this compound was turning out to be his regular hideout.

It wasn't as if he could go in though. There were always guards posted at a Division's main entrance twenty-four/seven, and there was no way a mere Academy student would be allowed inside.

And then he remembered the bar stationed practically across the road from the Eighth Division. Ichigo had never gotten around to asking but he'd bet an arm that Shunsui had been the one to – at the very least – insist on having one built within a few steps of his Division's main entrance.

It was more refined than the average rowdy bars in the city, a place where the older generation of Shinigami went for some down time rather than one where the younger Shinigami went to party. Still, Ichigo had gone before, dragged along by Shinji or Shunsui or even his own father because, while Ichigo had inherited the Shibas' high alcohol tolerance, he had never been one to drink very much, even during the rougher times in the war (his family dying had been an exception).

However, technically, Academy students weren't supposed to enter bars, at least not by themselves. It wasn't as if students couldn't drink; there was actually a place that sold alcohol to anyone who weren't outright children (Ichigo would know; he'd bought some himself). But it was generally frowned upon when students went to class with a hangover. Once they had graduated, then they had a license to enter bars and drink as much as they wanted to, but not before.

Still, this was an emergency, and not many bartenders cared whether or not their customers were students as long as they were _paying_ students.

Ichigo glanced back, sensing Kukaku's rapidly approaching reiatsu signature. He heaved another sigh before heading for the bar. With any luck, he could slip inside, wait for Kukaku to go away, and then head back to the Academy. Clearly, wandering around Seireitei wasn't a good idea.

He hurried to the bar – _Paradise Rose_ – and without further dithering, pushed open the door and shuffled inside. He cursed himself when, just before he let the door swing shut behind him, he caught a glimpse of Kukaku sprinting around the corner.

Damn it, she had seen him, or at least she had seen the door close.

"I...chigo?"

Ichigo stilled, and then spun around. Sitting at the far end were the only occupants of the bar. Even worse, he knew them.

Calmly, Ichigo flicked his gaze upwards to stare at the ceiling just so he wouldn't have to look at the four captains and lieutenant all staring back at him.

"Someone up there hates me," He murmured up at the wooden surface above him. In his head, Shiro was howling with laughter. He even felt a thrum of mirth from Zangetsu.

Traitors.

"Ichigo, is something wrong? You look a bit nervous."

Ichigo took a deep breath and lowered his gaze to glower at the concerned expression on Kaien's face. Still seated, Shunsui was watching Ichigo with a very unhelpful look of amusement. Beside him, Ukitake looked exasperated, the slightest of smiles twitching at his lips. Shinji was already grinning. The man had clearly cottoned on to the fact that Ichigo was some kind of daily source of entertainment.

And last but not least, Urahara Kisuke was eyeing him with an air of bemused curiosity.

Ichigo hastily glanced away. Great; just great. Someone seriously wanted to screw with his life.

"Ichigo?"

Ichigo shot a blistering scowl at his cousin, ignoring the fact that this was (most likely) not Kaien's fault, and then craned his head around when he felt Kukaku's reiatsu getting closer and closer.

"Shit!" He muttered, looking around desperately for somewhere to hide.

Kaien looked even more confused now as he cocked his head in the direction of the door and came around the table he had been sitting at towards Ichigo. "It's fine, Ichigo, that's just my sister-"

Ichigo effectively shut him up with a whack over the head. "That's the _point_. Your sister is relentless! I've been trying to shake her off for _half an hour_ now! You're my Clan Head, and I'm in trouble; _do_ something!"

Kaien snorted with incredulous laughter. "Ichigo, she probably just wants to coax you back home. I do it all the time-"

"Yeah, but unlike you, if I refuse, she'll break my nose," Ichigo snapped, catching sight of a nearby table mostly hidden in one shadowy corner. "Alright, look, don't tell her where I am, and I'll- I'll owe you one."

"What- hey-"

Ichigo didn't give him a chance to finish as he hurtled across the room and dove under his chosen table, taking a deep breath and completely tamping down on his reiatsu.

Seconds later, the door slammed open.

Ichigo shrank further into the shadows, pulled a chair in front of him for good measure, and began threatening Kaien in his mind with bodily harm if his cousin sold him out.

His day had been bad enough. It was about time it started looking up again.

**{3}**

"Kukaku!" Kaien smiled brightly at his fuming sister even as he silently lamented at his baby cousin's antics. Although hiding under a table _was_ a very Shiba thing to do. "What a surprise! What are you doing here?"

She scowled at him, looking quite a bit like Ichigo before her gaze flicked past him at the captains sitting around the table behind him. Stiffly, she sketched a polite bow in their direction before rounding on him again.

"Don't 'Kukaku' me!" She barked, crossing her arms. "I saw him come in here!"

Kaien hesitated for half a heartbeat before taking pity on Ichigo and enquiring with innocent cluelessness, "Saw who?"

Kukaku's features darkened ominously. "_Ichigo_, of course! Don't play dumb with me!"

"He's not here, sis," Kaien lied blithely. "Why do you want to find him anyway?"

If anything, this just riled Kukaku up even further. Kaien inwardly winced.

"Why do you think?!" She all but yelled, frustration in every line of her posture. "I haven't seen him since he left for the Academy! And you downright suck at bringing him home! Clearly, I have to do it myself if I want anything done around here!"

Kaien rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Aw, you know I've been trying."

Kukaku rolled her eyes. "Not hard enough, obviously. You should just tie him up and drag him home."

Kaien heaved a sigh. "He doesn't want to, Kukaku. Hell, the first time I gave him his monthly pension – that _every_ Shiba gets, remember – he tried to give it back to me. What kind of self-respecting Academy student refuses free money? As far as I know, he's barely even used any of it. All he eats is that crap they serve in the school canteen unless I manage to hunt him down for lunch."

He barely refrained from shooting a reproachful look at the far table where Ichigo was hiding under. Honestly, his baby cousin's attempts at distancing himself from them were ridiculous. It wasn't in any Shiba's nature to give up on something even after being turned away numerous times.

"Well he wouldn't have that problem if you'd just wrangle him back to the compound for dinner," Kukaku growled, scanning the bar suspiciously. "Now where is he? I've been following him for half an hour now and he's either very lucky or very good at keeping half a street of people between us at all times."

Kaien bit back a fond laugh. Out loud, he spun out, "Well, he must've given you the slip earlier because he's not here."

Kukaku's eyebrows shot up, blatantly calling him out on his bullshit. "Oh _really_?"

She ducked around him before he could counter her, fierce gaze settling on the captains. "Taichou, sorry to interrupt your afternoon but have you seen our cousin? He's yay tall with brown eyes, looks exactly like Kaien here except with a mop of orange hair you can't miss?"

All the captains traded amused looks. Behind Kukaku's gaze, Kaien pressed his hands together and mouthed 'LIE LIE LIE-' only to shut up when Kukaku glanced back at him suspiciously.

"Can't say we have," Kyouraku was the first to speak up in a lazy drawl, grey eyes lighting up with suppressed laughter. "Sorry, Kukaku-chan."

The other captains followed his lead, shaking their heads with hidden and not-so-hidden grins of their own. Kaien flashed an appreciative thumbs-up at them over Kukaku's head.

His sister huffed, scowling again, but she could hardly call out four captains for lying, so with a sour frown in their direction and another scan of the room, she turned a dead-eyed stare on Kaien again.

"Bring him home, Nii-san," She hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest. "_Or else_."

Kaien cringed a little because when Kukaku said 'or else', they weren't empty threats. She meant business, and if Kaien didn't deliver, there would be hell to pay.

Sometimes, he wondered just which one of them held the real power over the Shiba Clan.

"Got it, sis," He promised meekly.

Kukaku only threw him another searing glare, bowed curtly at the captains again, spared an extra nod for Urahara (whom she knew through being friends with the Shihouin princess), before turning on her heel and storming out of the bar. Kaien only relaxed again when her reiatsu signature faded into the distance.

"She's gone, cousin," Kaien announced with a sardonic edge in his voice. "Now stop hiding under that table, you wuss."

Ichigo glowered at him as he crawled out from under the wooden furniture and dusted himself off, already gearing himself up for another argument between them.

"'Got it, sis'," Ichigo mocked. "She's totally got you whipped; don't deny it."

"At least I don't run away from her!" Kaien defended grouchily. "Half an hour, Ichigo?"

"Hah!" Ichigo sniped back. "I bet you wouldn't even last half an hour, oh great lieutenant!"

"Hey, I just saved your butt here; show a little gratitude!" Kaien scolded, stamping down on the reluctant smile threatening to creep onto his face.

To his surprise, instead of another retort, Ichigo opened his mouth, and then closed it again as recollection surfaced on his face. With an irritated tick of an eyebrow, the orange-haired Shiba said instead, "Yeah, okay, I said owed you one now. What do you want?"

Kaien would've done a double-take if he hadn't already been looking at his cousin. "You- What- Okay, you know what, cousin? There is something seriously wrong with you. Family do not owe family."

He paused as Ichigo blinked at him, evidently a little bewildered and not about to take no for an answer so Kaien forged on with a sudden smirk, "That being said, I do have something for you in mind."

Ichigo stiffened, a flicker of trepidation entering his features, and Kaien made a mental note to work on that. _After_ he had fulfilled his familial duty and dragged this idiot home for some good old Shiba tough love.

"One dinner," Kaien grinned slyly, holding up a finger. "Anytime in the next month of your choosing, but you come home for one dinner, stay for the entire meal, and I'll call us even."

Indignant horror blossomed on his cousin's face even as several snickers and Hirako's comment of "I definitely saw that comin'" came from somewhere behind him.

Ichigo shifted, clearly reluctant (and was that a flash of pain in his eyes?), so Kaien cajoled, "You won't even have to stay for the night if you don't want to. If Kukaku tries to make you, I'll put my foot down and escort you back to the Academy myself. One dinner, Ichigo, with your family. That's all I'm asking."

Ichigo stared at him for a while longer, really only stalling as his expression settled into one of resigned defeat. "Fine, _one_ dinner, anytime I want in the next month, and I get to leave as soon as it's over. And you keep your family-"

"_Our_ family," Kaien interrupted.

"-away from me when they inevitably pull their crazy shit," Ichigo continued on heedlessly.

"They're not going to do anything crazy," Kaien lied through his teeth even as he thought of Isshin and Ganju.

Ichigo scoffed loudly, tension beginning to ease from his shoulders. "If they're half as bad as you, I should start making contingency plans now."

Kaien rolled his eyes, and then shunpoed forward to sling an arm around his cousin. He had to do it quickly or Ichigo would undoubtedly duck away from him. As it was, the younger Shinigami was already trying to wriggle away. "Don't trash our family; we're the best clan out there. Now enough of that; since you're already in a bar, you might as well come and drink."

"I don't like drinking!"

Kaien shot him an appalled look. "You're a _Shiba_; high alcohol tolerance is practically in our blood!"

"I didn't say I _can't_ drink; I just don't like it!" Ichigo snarled, attempting to throw Kaien's arm off, but Kaien could tell that it was a half-hearted effort. "Besides, I'm a student; I'm not even supposed to go to bars! Now get off of me!"

"But here you are anyway," Kaien said cheerfully as he wrestled his cousin into the chair that Kyouraku had generously pulled up. "So you might as well enjoy yourself. Don't worry; nobody here will tattle on you. And I think you know most people here already. The one on the end there beside Hirako-taichou is Urahara-taichou, captain of the Twelfth. Say hi."

Ichigo looked positively mutinous as he sulked in his seat but he heaved an I-can't-believe-I'm-putting-up-with-your-bullshit sigh before flicking a glance over at the pale-haired captain seated across the table.

"Nice to meet you, Urahara-taichou," Ichigo muttered, and Kaien mentally frowned at the way his cousin's gaze subtly skittered back and forth between Urahara's face and the air beside the man's left ear, not quite focusing directly on the captain in question.

Kaien glanced down briefly. Ichigo's hands were balled into white-knuckled fists under the table.

He looked up again as the younger Shinigami greeted the other captains with blunt borderline cordiality. Did Ichigo have a problem with Urahara? He hadn't been like that with the others, although, granted, Kaien had been distracted with arguing with his cousin when Ichigo had first been introduced to Ukitake and Kyouraku, and even more distracted by the life-and-death battle he had been in when Ichigo had laid eyes on Hirako.

"Classes out for the day, I'm assumin'?" Hirako, bless his cunningly manipulative heart, got the conversation going so that Kaien didn't have to keep an eye on his cousin anymore to make sure that the younger Shinigami wouldn't bolt out the door.

"Yes, sir," Ichigo nodded, the gesture looking slightly rigid. "I finish pretty early on most days since I don't have to take the full Zanjutsu classes in the afternoon."

Hirako's eyebrows rose inquisitively. "Your instructor withdrew ya from the classes altogether? Ya must be good."

Kaien observed the minute pride mixed with even less noticeable sorrow flash through his cousin's eyes with lightning-quick speed.

"I just do my best," Ichigo offered in somewhat stilted tones. "But thank you for saying so, Taichou."

Hirako's grin made another appearance, edged with light-hearted teasing. "Ya said that last night too. I think I'm complimentin' ya too much."

There was still a hint of uncertainty in Ichigo's expression but a smirk quirked his lips and the quick-witted response came without fear and maybe even a tinge of wry humour. "I don't mind, Taichou; you can compliment me as much as you want. I promise you that it does only good things for my ego."

Hirako blinked once in surprise before snorting with laughter. Beside him, Ukitake and Kyouraku exchanged amused glances while Urahara leaned forward with increasing interest.

"There's the cheek I was lookin' for," Hirako declared with an even wider grin. "Given any thought to my offer? Fourth Seat's yours if ya want it."

"Now that's just cheating, Hirako," Kyouraku cut in, tone of voice as laidback as usual.

Kaien smothered the laughter threatening to burst out of him. His baby cousin was the entire reason they were all here. Or most of them anyway; Urahara had tagged along mostly because he had wanted to get away from his lieutenant for a while and had been curious enough about Ichigo to nose his way into the ludicrous – and Kaien really, _really _couldn't put it any other way no matter how much he wanted to – dick-waving contest between two of the oldest captains in Seireitei, and one of them being at least a few centuries older than the other too.

Hirako's grin took on the faintest edge of a challenge. "Not cheatin' when we're all tryin' ta secure future prospects for our squad, Kyouraku."

Kyouraku still looked completely unconcerned but Kaien had to stifle a snicker when the captain glanced over at a perplexed Ichigo with an easygoing smile and a prompt, "Ichigo-kun, consider my squad on the table as well. You would be my Third Seat as soon as you graduate.

"And," He added, motioning to the two blades leaning side by side against the wall beside him. "As you can see, I'm also a dual-blade wielder. If you want I can help you improve your sword style."

"Oi! That's not fair!" Hirako huffed. "One-uppin' me now, huh?"

"You already have a Third Seat," Kyouraku pointed out almost smugly. "You grabbed Ichimaru-kun before any of the other squads could move in last time."

Hirako threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "I told ya, that wasn't my decision. Aizen-chan just hauled him into my office one mornin' and started goin' through the longest-ass spiel of reasons ya could ever dream of about why takin' the brat in would be a good idea. I distinctly remember I had a hangover that day and wasn't in any mood ta listen ta him go on about it, so I agreed."

Kaien had tuned them out half a dozen sentences ago even as the two continued bickering with good humour. Instead, he was watching his cousin again out of the corner of his eye. Ichigo always had a perpetual scowl on his face but he wasn't yet capable of hiding all his emotions.

So Kaien hadn't missed the slight widening of Ichigo's eyes when Kyouraku had implied a mentorship, and the way the younger Shinigami looked – just for a fraction of a second – like he had been slapped. And then Ichigo had closed off completely, expression shuttering as his gaze shifted and stayed riveted on the cup of sake that Kyouraku had automatically poured for him earlier.

Across from Kaien, his own captain was busy trying to play mediator between Kyouraku and Hirako. On the other hand, Urahara was watching Ichigo like a hawk, eyes shrewd and thoughts hidden behind a distracted smile.

Kaien had heard from Ukitake himself that Urahara was a certified genius, that the man would've graduated in a year tops from the Academy if he hadn't wanted to wait for Tsukabishi and the Shihouin princess to finish as well before ascending into the ranks of the Gotei 13. And from Kaien's own sparse observations of the man, Urahara was nothing if not perceptive. And curious; scientists usually were.

But it was exactly that reason that made Kaien uneasy now. That Third Seat that Urahara had taken on quite literally gave Kaien the creeps. Kurotsuchi was the very definition of people that should be avoided at all costs, and Kaien had even overheard – once, when most of the seated officers had been gathered for something or other – the Shinigami muttering to himself about _dissecting_ a _live specimen_ while pouring over some notes.

If _that_ was what the Third Seat was like, Kaien shuddered to think how much worse the scientist's captain was. Urahara had handpicked his Third Seat after all. And at least Kurotsuchi's disturbing tendencies could be read easily enough just by looking at him. Urahara hid everything behind that carefree demeanour that Kaien's fellow lieutenant Hiyori complained about at least three times a day, not to mention the man had been Onmitsukidou once upon a time, and head of the Detention Unit to boot. Those assassins had little qualms about taking lives in the worst ways possible. They took ruthless to a whole new level. It was why he didn't particularly like the Second Division captain either even though Kukaku was friends with her. All of the Shihouin princess' jokes and comical teasing simply made most people forget the fact that she was the empress of the Onmitsukidou.

On the whole, Kaien just didn't like people who hid behind way too many layers. Nor did he like those who left their comrades behind (because, hell, that was practically one of the Onmitsukidou's official laws – allies were to be left behind to die if they could not save themselves), or carried out assassination of all things without question, most of the time without even being given the list of crimes that their targets had committed.

So really, in Kaien's opinion, the Twelfth Division captain's only saving grace was the trace of nervousness in his tone of voice and actions. It had decreased over the years ever since Urahara had become captain but it was still there, lurking underneath the surface. That, at least, was real, and showed that Urahara still had some humanity in him.

Nevertheless, Kaien didn't want the man anywhere near his baby cousin. Not in the same squad and preferably not even in the same building. However, the latter predilection couldn't really be helped so Kaien deliberately leaned forward just a little in the pretense of reaching for his sake cup, made sure Ichigo wasn't paying attention, and then tilted his head just a little and shot a hard stare directly at the Twelfth Division captain.

_Back off_.

Urahara started a little in surprise before the captain persona recovered and a pale eyebrow arched in question. Kaien just thinned his lips and frowned harder.

In terms of age, Urahara was actually younger than him. The man was Kukaku's age, and had Kaien's sister decided to become a Shinigami, she probably would've entered the Academy at around the same time as Urahara and his two childhood friends.

But that was neither here nor there, except for the fact that Kaien wasn't at all intimidated by the younger Shinigami despite their respective ranks. Heck, way back when Urahara had still been in the Academy, the blond – along with Tsukabishi – had tagged along on a few occasions with the Shihouin princess when she had visited the Shiba compound to play with Kukaku and even Ganju. So right now, all Kaien cared about was making sure Urahara and his science-y wiles stayed far, far away from Ichigo.

"So Shiba-san,"

Kaien stiffened and stomped down on a glower when Urahara spoke up, gaze sliding past Kaien and concentrating on Ichigo instead.

What.

Did that idiot not understand Kaien's stare of I'll-kill-you-if-you-don't-stay-away-from-my-baby- cousin-with-your-creepy-dissection-fantasies?

Ichigo's head jerked up, looking a little wrecked around the edges like he was barely holding it together. And then Kaien blinked and Ichigo suddenly had his expression under control again.

"Sir?" Ichigo straightened as the other captains quieted and turned their attention to the impending conversation.

"Do you actually have a squad in mind?" Urahara enquired with a fleeting unfathomable smile that probably would've looked ten times more mysterious if his eyes were shadowed or something. "Somewhere you want to go after you graduate?"

Ichigo shifted, glancing briefly over at Kyouraku before replying, "Not the Second, Fourth, Twelfth, or Thirteenth. None of those are really suitable for me."

Kaien felt a resigned sort of disappointment at hearing the Thirteenth being ruled out but he had pretty much already come to terms with the fact that there was no way Ichigo would be able to grow into himself if he was always standing in Kaien's shadow even if Kaien would've done his best to make sure that didn't happen.

In contrast, he brightened upon hearing the Twelfth and Second being discarded as well. That was wonderful; his cousin was very wise.

"Not the Tenth either," Ichigo tacked on bluntly, glancing at Kaien this time. It only took a moment for Kaien to realize why.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Kaien squawked indignantly. "Just because Isshin-ji is the Tenth's lieutenant, you're not going to join? He's not that bad!"

"I've seen him around," Ichigo retorted. "He's worse than you, and I didn't think I would ever say that.

"And not the Eleventh," The bright-haired Shinigami continued before Kaien could decide whether or not he should be pleased that Ichigo at least liked him more than their admittedly insane uncle. "I hear they're a rough bunch, and they like fighting a bit too constantly for my taste."

Urahara actually pouted a little though his eyes glittered with unsettling interest. "But not the Twelfth? Being a scientist isn't a requirement to enter."

Ichigo shrugged, and then – bless his heart – said in a matter-of-fact tone, looking Urahara straight in the eye without a hint of embarrassment, "I've seen a few Twelfth Division members walking around as well. Your Third Seat is creepy as fuck, and while he might be loyal to the Gotei 13, he unsettles me and I'd probably spend my entire time in your squad looking over my shoulder to make sure he doesn't abduct me and cut me open to see what makes me tick."

A long silence followed. Kaien was torn between beaming with pride and banging his head against the nearest wall. The other captains' expressions ranged from admonishingly amused to outright hilarity. Kaien supposed it was a good thing that someone like the Sixth Division captain wasn't here; Kuchiki Ginrei would've most likely at least given Ichigo a stern fifteen-minute-long dressing-down.

Urahara looked somewhat taken aback, as if he hadn't the faintest clue how to react to Ichigo's brand of straightforward honesty, but that expression was quickly replaced with an easy smile and a cheery, "That's too bad. Kurotsuchi-san _can_ be a bit offsetting though, even to me."

Kaien inwardly scoffed. Clearly, Kurotsuchi wasn't offsetting enough if Urahara had chosen to keep the scientist in his squad.

As if to reinforce Kaien's viewpoint, the captain finished off with, "But he is very good at what he does so I believe he's worth the... apprehension he causes."

Ichigo just shrugged again, finally reaching for his sake. "To each his own, Taichou."

Kaien raised an eyebrow at the ease with which his cousin downed his sake; it didn't take an expert drinker to realize that Ichigo had drank before even without the younger Shinigami alluding to as much earlier.

How odd. Ichigo didn't seem like those students who snuck alcohol back to their dorms to party and get drunk with their friends.

Then again, Ichigo didn't seem to have any friends, none in his own year bracket anyway, or any bracket for that matter. Fujiwara and Koyonagi didn't count, not really, or not yet. Whichever.

"Well, anyway," Ichigo pushed away from the table and made to rise to his feet. "This was... fun. But I really should be going."

Kaien almost shook his head out of sheer amazement. Most students would give an arm and a leg to stick around a bunch of captains for as long as possible to make a good impression. Not only was Ichigo reluctant to stick around, the younger Shinigami hadn't exactly made a _good_ impression. An impression, certainly, but more of a...memorable impression than a standard good one.

"I'll walk you back," Kaien announced, jumping up as well.

Ichigo shot him a dirty look. "I'm not a dog."

Kaien rolled his eyes. "Not what I meant. Can't I just want to spend some time with my favourite cousin?"

"You've known me for less than a year," Ichigo snapped back almost scathingly. "I can't be your favourite anything."

This actually made Kaien pause because, now that he thought about it, he realized that he literally couldn't remember when Ichigo being his 'favourite cousin' changed from teasing to reality.

That wasn't to say that Kaien didn't like his other cousins anymore – he cared about them and would protect any of his family fiercely if anybody tried to hurt them – but even within the Shiba Clan where there was no Council of Elders or particularly stringent laws like the Kuchikis or the Shihouins, Kaien was still shown more awe and deference than he was truly comfortable with. He had grown up outside of Seireitei with Kukaku and Ganju, so in the beginning when they had first returned, it had taken some time to get used to leading an entire clan of people who, while friendly enough and would engage in casual conversation with him whenever Kaien wanted, also admired him too much to become close friends.

But Ichigo, with his fearless wit and prickly insults and refusal to treat Kaien as anything other than a somewhat annoying older cousin, was like a breath of fresh air. Not once had Ichigo ever bowed to him, only addressing him formally that one time in front of the other Shinigami officers when they had all been on duty, and despite how irritated Ichigo always seemed towards Kaien, the bright-haired Shinigami had never honest-to-god told Kaien to go away and leave him alone.

So.

"I mean every word," Kaien emphasized once more. "And because you're my favourite cousin, I have a duty to make sure we spend more time together. Don't want you getting lonely, you know."

Much to Kaien's delight, even Ichigo's hair seemed to bristle as the younger Shinigami's ire heightened. "Why would I get lonely, you idiot?! Leave me alone!"

"What's that?" Kaien inwardly cackled as he Shunpoed forward and slung an arm around Ichigo's shoulders again because riling up his baby cousin was pretty much his favourite pastime these days. "You want to spend more time with me too? I don't mind at all. In fact, I'm all but finished work for the day." He glanced over at Ukitake, ignoring the way Ichigo was fighting tooth and nail to dislodge Kaien's arm. "Hey Taichou, is it okay if I take Ichigo out for dango? Do you need anything else for the next hour or so?"

Ukitake just sighed and smiled indulgently at him (was it any wonder that Kaien respected and near-adored this man as a brother and father?). "Just be back by six-thirty. There are some reports I want to go through with you before we all head home for dinner."

Kaien grinned and saluted with his free hand. "Will do, sir." And then added for the others, "Until later, Taichou."

Kyouraku raised his sake cup in a return salute, Hirako waved with his signature grin (though Kaien noticed that the captain's gaze only lingered momentarily on him before drifting left and staying on Ichigo instead), and Urahara smiled amiably at both of them, grey eyes still retaining that strange mix of calculation and contemplation.

Kaien reminded himself once more to steer Ichigo well away from this guy.

"Give my offer some more thought, Ichigo," Hirako called cheekily after them, not even bothering with an honorific. The blond usually didn't, but most of the time, he also used surnames, but Kaien was there so it made sense.

"Mine too," Kyouraku was quick to follow up, a rare glint of competitiveness in his eyes. "Third Seat, remember."

"Kyouraku, you underhanded bast-"

Kaien let the door swing shut behind them, laughing under his breath at the captains' antics. "You'd expect them to be mature, wouldn't you, Ichigo?"

Ichigo had finally given up on throwing Kaien's arm off, though his shoulders stayed stiff as they walked along. "Shinigami are very rarely mature. Mostly only in times of dire need, and even then, it doesn't happen often."

Kaien released a bark of laughter at that. "Hey, you're one of those Shinigami, you know."

The look on Ichigo's face told Kaien that his cousin had actually forgotten that fact, and he had to huff another laugh as he eased up on the death clamp he had had around Ichigo's shoulders. Ichigo instantly ducked away with a scowl. Kaien said nothing as he tracked his cousin's hand when it moved up to rub subconsciously behind his right shoulder, just below the clavicle.

Kaien had seen Ichigo's body when he had first found him and rushed him back to the Shiba compound, after Unohana had cleaned up all the blood and healed him as best as she had been able, so Kaien knew that his cousin had more than a few scars underneath his clothes, some from battles, others from – as Unohana had told him in private with the slightest twist of disgust in the line of her pursed lips – torture.

The scar running from Ichigo's right shoulder blade to left hip in a diagonal line down his back, thick and slightly furrowed, had been deliberate and painful to even look at, and Kaien always tried not to think too hard about it, or any of Ichigo's scars at all because that knowledge never failed to fog up his brain with a haze of red hot homicidal rage. If, one day, he ever found out who had hurt his baby cousin that badly, Kaien had no doubt that he would be leaving a massacre behind when he ultimately hunted them down, trifling things like upholding the law and arresting them for justice be damned. Nobody touched his family and got away with it unscathed.

(He might need a little help hiding the bodies though, just until they dissolved into reishi.)

It was also because of this that he was perhaps a little bit – okay, a lot – overprotective of the newest addition to the Shiba family, why Kaien always went out of his way to make certain that Ichigo didn't get too wrapped up in his head and pull away from social interactions entirely.

Kaien blinked back into the present, glancing to the side when he felt eyes focused on him. "What's wrong, cousin?"

Ichigo's brow creased even further as he turned to face the front again. "Nothing. You were being suspiciously quiet."

Kaien snorted. "I _can_ be quiet when I want to be."

Ichigo eyeballed him skeptically but, surprisingly, didn't snark something back per usual. Instead, he turned away again, an imperceptibly tired slump to his shoulders.

Kaien observed him for a long moment before remarking quietly, "It's pretty exhausting pretending to be angry all the time, isn't it?"

This earned him a sharp sidelong look and a scoff. "You've never seen me angry; mostly just irritated, and trust me when I say that when it comes to you, I don't need to pretend."

Kaien hummed noncommittally and didn't press, didn't mention how Ichigo's annoyance towards him sometimes rang false and never really reached the point of genuine resentment, and he didn't voice the fact that when it came down to it, Ichigo was a very straightforward person and lying would never be his forte.

Instead, as they turned down another street, Kaien asked, "Why won't you come home anyway? We're a friendly bunch, all told. Nothing to be afraid of."

Ichigo's shoulders rose an inch. If Kaien didn't depend so much on those shoulders telling him what his reticent cousin was feeling, he'd point it out to Ichigo so that the younger Shinigami could fix it, but he did so the point was moot.

When Ichigo didn't say anything, Kaien pushed on. _This_ topic he was going to pursue. "Come on, Ichi, give me something. I'm your cousin; you can tell me anything."

Another tension-filled silence. Kaien took a not-so-wild stab in the dark. "Do you... remember something from your past?"

Ichigo's shoulders rose another quarter-inch. Bingo. And judging by the wincing glower Ichigo fired at him, he knew it as well.

"Do you-" Kaien started.

"If that question ends with 'need a therapist', I swear Ukitake-san will be looking for a new lieutenant before the day is out," Ichigo growled harshly.

Kaien took this threat in stride as he did every other one that came from his crabby cousin. "Actually, I just wanted to know if you wanted to talk about it."

Another look, unreadable this time. "...No."

Kaien stared at him, blatant and patient and stubborn. He didn't become a lieutenant by being _im_patient. Unfortunately, Ichigo had him beat when it came to stubbornness.

It was kind of sad, in Kaien's opinion, and ironic in a weird irrelevant way. All the Shibas had dark hair, ranging from black to the darkest of blues. Ichigo on the other hand had bright orange hair (Kaien put that down to Ichigo's non-Shiba parent) that stood out like the sun amongst the clan members, yet he was also undoubtedly the gloomiest one of them all.

"Do you remember your family?" Kaien prodded now. "The Shibas are a bit scattered even if most of us reside in Seireitei so it wouldn't surprise me if you grew up in Rukongai somewhere. Kukaku, Ganju, and I grew up in District 3 in West Rukongai."

More silence. Most of their clan couldn't keep their mouths shut unless absolutely necessary, they liked to party and drink, and socializing was practically in their blood. Ichigo was like the antithesis of everything that made a Shiba.

Ichigo was looking at him again, measured and guarded as if he was weighing Kaien's trustworthiness.

Like Kaien had said before – he knew how to be quiet when he wanted to be, so he stayed silent under his cousin's too-old scrutiny.

He was rewarded a full minute and a half later.

"...I had a mother, a father, and two younger sisters."

Kaien was caught between celebrating his first breakthrough with his enigmatic cousin and quelling the cold dread settling in his gut. He was careful not to ask 'what happened to them' or something equally insensitive. Instead, he enquired gently, "What were they like?"

He almost smiled when Ichigo blinked at him with surprised but grateful eyes.

"My mom was great," Ichigo told him, and there was a softness in his voice that Kaien had never heard before. "Best mother in the world. She kept my dad in line and cooked the best meals you could ever imagine. When I was a kid, she read tons of bedtime stories to me, and then later my sisters as well. Helped us with anything we needed, treated us like we were her entire world. She was-" He broke off to clear his throat. "She saved me from a Hollow."

Kaien exhaled silently before taking a step to the side so that their shoulders brushed as they walked. For once, Ichigo didn't move away.

"My dad was insane," Ichigo continued, and the words seemed to come easier now. The younger Shinigami shot Kaien a dry look. "Even worse than you."

Kaien quirked a grin. Ah, so the father was unquestionably Shiba.

"But he cared about us in his own idiotic way," Ichigo expanded. "Loved the girls; my sisters, I mean. Spoiled them rotten but they were still the sweetest kids you could ever meet. Yuzu took after Kaa-san, and Karin took after me but- you know, less..."

He trailed off and gestured at himself with an encompassing hand.

_Yuzu _and_ Karin_, Kaien noted down in his head. He'd make sure to go home and add those names to the family register. Even if they were dead now, they had still been Shibas.

"You said Isshin-ji was worse than me too," Kaien said aloud, dragging the conversation back to something less depressing. "Guess I'm nowhere near the bottom of your shit list, huh?"

He raised an eyebrow when Ichigo glanced at him with a sardonically amused expression. "What?"

"Nothing," Ichigo looked away again. "...Academy's up ahead."

Courteously refraining from commenting on Ichigo's atrocious abilities in the subtle art of changing subjects, Kaien extended a hand, snagging his cousin's arm to halt his steps for a moment. Ichigo arched an eyebrow at him.

"Listen," Kaien started in a solemn murmur. "We – me, Kukaku, Ganju, Isshin-ji, everyone else – we can't replace your family. We never can, and we don't want to. But we _are_ your family, a different one than the one you knew, but family nonetheless. So you can come to us for anything, anything at all. A hot meal and a familiar face – Kukaku will get her ass out of bed at three in the morning and cook you a feast if that's what you want, though she might throw a spoon at you first. Some place to hide away from life for a while – you can pretty much get lost in the forests behind our main compound. And if you're ever in trouble, we'll always have your back, even if your enemy is the rest of the world. Us Shibas are big on family, understand?"

Kaien didn't look away as his cousin stared back at him, wide-eyed and suddenly seeming so damn young that he wondered just how long Ichigo had lived. People aged differently in Soul Society; for all Kaien knew, Ichigo could be younger than someone who actually still looked like a kid.

Ichigo's expression abruptly closed off again but he threw out in an almost overly offhand manner, "So, what, if I suddenly turn traitor and the Captain-Commander orders my execution or something, you'd still stand by me?"

Kaien considered this without a hint of humour and answered without hesitation. "Yeah, because you may not talk about yourself much, and like you said, we've only known each other for less than a year, but I'd like to think I know your character well enough. If you're ever declared a traitor, I'd know that there'd be a damn good reason for it, or someone made a mistake or was setting you up, and I'd do my best to help you any way I can. We all would."

He paused, taking in the stunned light in his cousin's eyes before pressing a loose fist against Ichigo's arm. "That's a promise, Ichigo, and I'm a man of my word, clear?"

Ichigo's mouth twisted into a funny smile, looking like he wanted to believe Kaien but couldn't quite get to that point. Kaien could deal; Ichigo would believe him one day. Besides, his persistence had finally paid off today; Ichigo had opened up a little at last, and Kaien would take that as a hard-won victory.

So for now, he merely grinned again and reached up to ruffle Ichigo's hair. "Go on back to school now. And don't forget – one dinner with us in the next month."

Ichigo swatted his hand away with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I'll remember, you lunatic. Go back to work. I swear, you only hang out with me as an excuse to skive off your lieutenant duties. I don't know why Ukitake-san puts up with you."

"I'll have you know everybody loves me for my charming personality and genius intellect," Kaien retorted with mock offense. He grinned once more when Ichigo rolled his eyes again, more exasperated than annoyed. "Careful, cousin, you don't want to strain yourself."

He ducked the next half-hearted punch with a cackle before jogging out of range. "See you later, Ichi. Remember to eat a good dinner."

"You're not my mom!" Ichigo shouted after him, but again, there was no heat in his voice, and as soon as Kaien disappeared around a corner, he did a stupid little jig in place, ignoring the alarmed looks coming from a nearby group of civilians.

Today had turned out better than he had ever expected.

**{3}**

"We should go out for dinner together!"

Ichigo wanted to groan. Or run away. Too bad Rangiku seemed to have predicted his train of thought and had hooked an arm around his, keeping him in place. Her other arm had wound around a flustered Fujiwara's left arm, stopping her from going anywhere as well.

The last three weeks had been... hectic. In a pull-hair-out semi-not-bad way, if that was at all possible.

True to her word, Rangiku had shown up with Fujiwara at one of their training sessions three weeks ago and hadn't missed one since. For someone who loved to look good and spent half an hour in front of the mirror (Ichigo knew this because the woman had made him wait outside her dorm room for her on several occasions) getting ready for the day, Rangiku wasn't at all afraid to get soaked and sweaty during a spar, and no matter how many times Ichigo knocked her down, she always got back up.

He had always respected Rangiku, and had considered her a valuable friend, but he was only now realizing why _Toshirou_ had kept her on despite her numerous vices when it came to drinking and doing her paperwork. One of the reasons anyway. Toshirou had also been fond of her in a long-suffering I-don't-get-paid-enough-for-putting-up-with-your-a ntics sort of way.

"Don't you have friends to hang out with?" Ichigo snapped crossly, trying to extract his arm without actually hurting her in the process.

Rangiku made a passable impression of a doe-eyed pout. Ichigo rolled his eyes. "But _you're_ my friend! And so is Asuka-chan!"

Needless to say, Rangiku had adored Fujiwara on the spot, cooing over her at the end of every lesson like an older sister fussing over someone much younger. Fujiwara had been justifiably confused, shooting wide-eyed looks of bafflement in Ichigo's direction as the amber-haired Shinigami had chattered on a mile a minute about everything and nothing even as she'd instructed Fujiwara not to look down all the time, to keep her head up and chin high and walk like she owned whatever place they were passing through.

Contrary to Ichigo's moodier personality which was great for getting Fujiwara in shape and boosting her confidence in her skills, Rangiku's brighter attitude and talkative nature just couldn't allow Fujiwara to stay silent, and the girl had soon began to respond, timid but willing enough.

Ichigo was secretly very glad. It wasn't as if he was shy (no matter what half the people he knew seemed to think) but he had never been all that good at small talk, especially since he was the sort of person to say exactly what he thought when someone asked him for his opinion. Sometimes, people didn't like that.

"Then you two go spend some- girl time together or whatever," Ichigo urged caustically, still tugging at _his_ limb, for God's sakes.

"Oh come on," Rangiku's eyes skipped past doe-eyed to puppy-dog. Ichigo snorted. Yuzu had been a master at wielding those and even she hadn't quite been able to influence him completely after years of building up immunity on his part. "We're sparring buddies, and sparring buddies should eventually advance to dinner buddies."

Ichigo stared at her, wondering if she had hit her head recently. "Where the fuck did you hear that?"

"It's my own philosophy," Rangiku told him loftily before turning to Fujiwara. "Tell him, Asuka-chan. Eating dinner together is a lot more fun than eating alone, don't you think?"

Fujiwara fidgeted in place for a moment before glancing up at Ichigo, anxious and heartbreakingly hopeful all at once. "I- I wouldn't mind, Shiba-san."

Ichigo glowered at her, unimpressed. "You're getting uppity, Fujiwara."

Fujiwara recoiled for a second before her spine seemed to straighten out and she sent a tentative, wobbly smile in his direction. "Still, let's- let's eat dinner together. We never do. And we're- we're kindoffriendsright?"

Ichigo wondered who he had pissed off in a past life. It figured that the moment he had managed to pound some self-confidence into his student, the girl would turn it right back on him.

He paused. Actually, come to think of it, he had pissed off a hell of a lot of people in his past life, no joke.

He squinted at Fujiwara once more, glanced at the expectant and scarily determined expression on Rangiku's face, and then heaved a sigh of defeat.

Rangiku released him and pumped a fist into the air without making it look at all awkward as she released a triumphant cheer. "Okay, I suppose we'll have to go back to the Academy for a shower and a change of clothes, and then we can try that new sushi restaurant that opened three blocks down from the school, agreed?"

Fujiwara was already nodding, mouth curling in a helpless little smile and looking so happy over something so simple that Ichigo had to look away. Instead, he nodded grudgingly, checking the position of the sun before grabbing Fujiwara and tossing her over one shoulder, ignoring her yelp of surprise.

"Curfew's at ten," Ichigo grunted, taking off in a lazy flit of Shunpo. A second later, Rangiku appeared beside him, brow creasing resolutely as she dogged his steps. "It's already seven-thirty. Meet at the gates in twenty minutes."

He shot a reproving look over at Rangiku who huffed and rolled her eyes. "I'll have you know I only spend that long in front of the mirror to make you wait. I don't _really_ need that much time."

Ichigo blinked, and then bared his teeth in a cantankerous growl, his Hollow fluttering just underneath the sound. Rangiku didn't notice, letting out a gleeful laugh and taking off at top speed. "You're adorable, Shiba-kun!"

Ichigo grimaced, shifted Fujiwara into a more secure position over his shoulder, and then sprinted after Rangiku, fast enough to push her to go at her top speed but slow enough not to overtake her. An unbidden smile twitched briefly at the corner of his lips even as they bounded over rooftops and alcoves before bursting through the Academy gates at the same time, Ichigo arching a cocky eyebrow as Rangiku gasped for air.

"Ooh, I hate you sometimes," Rangiku grumbled good-naturedly as she straightened and Ichigo lowered Fujiwara back onto the ground.

Ichigo ignored her. Smugly. "Go change," He told Fujiwara instead, giving her a gentle shove in the right direction.

Rangiku had the gall to whack him over the head as she swept past him and placed her hands on the girl's shoulders, sniffing imperiously at him. "Oh honestly, speak like a normal person, Shiba-kun. You bark at everyone like you're giving orders. Use _words_, not military instructions."

And then, under Ichigo's incredulous stare, she ushered Fujiwara away, gesturing widely at the air around her as she described the kimono that she was going to lend Fujiwara for the night because they were going to go out in style.

Ichigo scrubbed a hand through his hair. _Why_ he put up with this idiocy, he would never understand.

Some random students who had been close by eyeballed him with superior little sneers and jealous eyes as their gazes dart between him and Rangiku (or more specifically, Rangiku's ass, which to Ichigo, was just wrong on so many levels, especially when they leered at the ignorant blonde).

Ichigo's mouth twisted into a snarl and he allowed his reiatsu to flare with killing intent as his protective instincts surged. The Shinigami students all choked and probably would've leapt back if they weren't using everything they had to stay upright.

"Stay away from her," Ichigo hissed venomously, reeling in his reiatsu again as they all nodded frantically. He scoffed and stalked away, inwardly fuming. It was one thing when Rangiku could hold her own and flirt back before humiliating or seducing her unknowing... _victims_; it was quite another when she was still this young, not as coy and less experienced with the way some perverts' minds worked.

So Ichigo, because he was such a nice guy (not really, but Rangiku was insisting on spending time with him now so it was sort of his duty from this point on), would do it for her until she could fend for herself. Mostly until she graduated and could Shikai the idiots who thought with their dicks and not their heads.

He scowled as he headed up to his dorm room. His own emotions weren't so great. Shiro was nagging at him to release his Zanpakutou, he hadn't been getting enough sleep, and the people around him were all just so exhaustingly _emotional_.

He unlocked his dorm room and slipped inside, mind reluctantly slipping back to what Kaien had said three and a half weeks ago for the umpteenth time.

He laughed raggedly, a little bitter and a lot tired. He wanted to believe his cousin, he really did because Kaien was nothing if not earnestly sincere, but the lieutenant might just be singing a different tune when everything with the Visored and Aizen came to a head in a few years' time.

After all, Kaien had an entire clan to look out for, and even if Ichigo was a Shiba, he didn't fit with them.

He sighed and glanced at the calendar pinned on the wall by his desk. One more week before he had to steel himself and eat dinner with the Shibas. He had no intention of going until the very last day, but that day was drawing closer and closer.

Ichigo made a face, and then grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the bathroom. He could think about all that later. For now, he had a different dinner to suffer through.

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**Please leave a review on your way out.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Bleach.**

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**General Warnings:** AU, GEN, Time/Dimension Travel, Ichigo-centric, violence, language.

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**Chapter 4**

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Ichigo tapped his pencil idly against one cheek as he eyed one of the far windows of the library he was studying in. He had to give the kid (Ichigo just couldn't picture him as anything but, even with their age difference) props; it had taken Ichigo a week before he had located and identified his – no doubt – Aizen-sent stalker.

Still, it wasn't an issue. He was still undecided on what to do with the fox-like Third Seat. It wasn't as if Ichigo was particularly attached to him after all, but for Rangiku's sake, _something_ would have to be done to hopefully keep the silver-haired Shinigami alive this time around.

At the moment however, Ichigo could leave him be. At worst, the kid was a mere annoyance hovering at the edge of his senses. It could be ignored, and Ichigo was always careful to keep all his actions within the scope of a genius-level Academy student.

Turning back to his work, Ichigo frowned hard at the sketch in his hands before dragging over one of the open scrolls scattered across his desk. He was fairly certain he had theoretically tied the anchor correctly into the rest of this particular Kidou seal but-

"Nobody would think you were a bookworm just by looking at you."

Ichigo closed his eyes. Goddamnit, couldn't he go one day without any distractions from anyone? "What do you want, Koyonagi?"

Ichigo glanced up briefly as Koyonagi sauntered over. The man hoisted himself gracefully onto an empty corner of the table, perching cross-legged on it even as he chuckled at Ichigo's disgruntled expression.

(Two tables over, a group of students glowered at Ichigo with jealous resentment. Ichigo ignored them.)

"Oh nothing much," Koyonagi assured brightly. "I have no classes to teach at the moment so I thought I'd swing by the library. Imagine my delight when I found you here."

Ichigo rolled his eyes (Koyonagi had Ichigo's schedule and knew full well where he typically spent his free periods) and returned to the scroll in front of him, reluctantly used to Koyonagi's antics. "Don't you have marking to do? Or students to scare?"

After Rangiku's revelations all those weeks ago, Ichigo had kept an extra eye out for Koyonagi's interactions with other people, and it hadn't taken long for him to realize that, yes, Rangiku was right; students and teachers alike skirted around Koyonagi like the man could turn into a demon from hell anytime, and for all his jokes and smiles and pranks and cordiality, the Zanjutsu department head really only used those things to keep everyone at arm's length. Everyone except Ichigo.

Ichigo had had no idea how to take this eye-opener so he had done what he did best – he took it all in stride and didn't bring it up with anyone – not even Rangiku after she had smirked at him knowingly when she had caught him staring at Koyonagi who had been looming menacingly over three terrified third-year students down the hall – ever again. Besides, it wasn't as if Koyonagi _liked_ him more than anyone else; the man just liked to _mock_ Ichigo more than anyone else.

"I can do both of those things later," Koyonagi was saying with a dismissive wave of his hand. "There's no rush."

He paused for a long minute – a minute that Ichigo was grateful for because he managed to review the entire scroll in the ensuing silence – and poked around at all of Ichigo's study materials.

"You know," Koyonagi started again as Ichigo began pouring over a different book on Kidou barriers. "You don't _have_ to be perfect in all four combat forms, right? Most Shinigami would be satisfied with graduating with two above average forms. Three at most. Your Kidou's not all that good but it's still actually better than at least a quarter of the sixth-years."

Ichigo flicked a frown in Koyonagi's direction before returning to the book. "I don't want to be perfect in any area; I'm _not_. It's impossible to be perfect."

He stopped for a moment and remembered Aizen and his desire to fuse with the Hogyoku to become a perfect being, and then he shoved all thoughts of that crazy (lonely) megalomaniac out of his head because he had time enough to think about the war during the long nights tossing and turning in bed. He didn't need to torture himself with his memories during the day as well.

"I still have a lot to learn," Ichigo said tersely instead, narrowing his gaze on Koyonagi when the man continued staring at him with an odd smile and unreadable eyes. "If I settle for how strong I am now and call myself 'perfect', I'll never be able to get stronger. I'll just... stop, and thinking like that will get my ass kicked one day. I'd rather not die because of something as pathetic as that."

Koyonagi cocked his head, smile widening just a touch. "Still, concentrating on three combat forms should be more than enough, don't you think? Kidou really isn't your strong suit, and it isn't even because you don't work hard enough or that you're slow. You just have too much reiatsu, and that's not something you can help."

Ichigo scowled and set his jaw because if there was one thing he knew he was, it was stubborn. Stubborn in his battles, stubborn in his loyalty, stubborn in never giving up on protecting the people he cared about.

"That's not an excuse," Ichigo scoffed. "What if something's preventing me from getting to my Zanpakutou? What if my legs are broken and I can't fight back or run? My Hadou spells have the tendency to backfire on me, I know; I'm working on that. But Bakudou consists of seals and barriers, and I'm actually okay with creating those."

He paused again and grimaced at the stack of books and scrolls in front of him. "Or at least I'm getting there. Which is why you should go away and leave me alone."

Koyonagi didn't, of course; Ichigo didn't even know why he bothered wasting his breath these days.

"If you could, would you?" Koyonagi asked out of the blue, green eyes intent. "Be perfect?"

Ichigo stared at him, book temporarily forgotten as he blinked incredulously at the instructor. "What? Of course not! Do you have any idea how-" – _lonely –_ "-fucked up that would be? Besides, it'd be damn boring with no one able to challenge you. Perfection's overrated. I'd rather just be..."

He trailed off, not finding the right words to express himself and finally settling on motioning at himself and all the papers on the desk in an encompassing gesture. "Just... it's not like I want to be the strongest. I just want to be strong enough to protect the people I want to protect. And to do that, I can't just settle for good enough and leave it at that. I'm never going to be perfect, and I don't want to be. But..."

Without meaning to, he thought again of Aizen, and how even with that madman at the height his power, at the height of perfection, Ichigo had _still_ defeated him in the end.

"But I don't need to be," Ichigo finished firmly. "Perfection means you've stopped growing, means you can't go any further. Imperfection means you can keep on growing, keep on moving forward for as long as you want to."

He fell silent then and fought back a heated flush, feeling his ears redden anyway. He hadn't meant to be so openly honest but this particular subject was a touchy one for him.

To his bewilderment and mild irritation, Koyonagi just started laughing softly, head now propped in his palm as his elbow balanced against one thigh.

"What?!" Ichigo barked, roughly yanking over another book in an effort to cover up his embarrassment. This was what he got for attempting to hold a proper conversation with someone. See if he ever did it again.

Koyonagi's laughter faded away but that same odd smile remained, one that Ichigo finally managed to pinpoint the mixture of fondness and approval in it.

"And this is why you're my favourite, Ichi-kun," The man said, beaming at Ichigo with good cheer and an unwavering gaze. "An idealist and a realist all in one; a paradox full of... mysteries. You intrigue me."

Ichigo just stared, completely at sea, somewhat mortified yet again, and not a little disturbed, because, _what?_ Who said that sort of thing just like that? And with a straight face too?

"Okay," He sighed out at last, deciding that this entire situation was getting dangerously close to surreal for him to handle. "I can usually stand having you around – _barely_ – but you are seriously creepy today, so either go away or shut up."

(Out of the corner of his eye, Ichigo could see the same group of students from before gawking at his audacity. Didn't those idiots have anything better to do?)

Koyonagi only grinned and chose nonexistent option three. He stayed, but one sandaled foot extended to nudge at Ichigo's shoulder before the man hopped down from the table. "You're a regular ray of sunshine, Ichi-chan. Now budge up."

"Why?" Ichigo asked with long-suffering exasperation even as he grudgingly scooted over, allowing Koyonagi to draw up a chair and take a seat beside him.

"Because your Kidou is truly abysmal in comparison to your other combat forms," Koyonagi replied breezily, picking up Ichigo's rough sketches of various seals. "And as my favourite student, I can't have that. Besides, I'm fairly decent at Kidou, if I do say so myself."

Ichigo wanted to bang his head against the table. He restrained himself only because that would mean clearing off some of the papers spread out on the desk, and there were a _lot_ of papers. "Teachers aren't even supposed to _have_ favourites."

"No they aren't," Koyonagi agreed magnanimously. "Yet all teachers do anyway no matter how much they pretend they don't. Teachers only _say_ they don't have favourites to make the students feel better. I, for one, have never cared whether or not I hurt my students' feelings so it doesn't concern me one way or the other."

And with that said, Koyonagi craned his head around, and Ichigo's eyebrows rose as the instructor's gaze zeroed in on the group of students two tables over with frightening intensity. The students all flinched and snapped their heads away, probably with enough speed to give themselves whiplash as they hunched over in their seats and frantically immersed themselves in their studies again, even going so far as to shuffle several feet away to put themselves out of hearing range.

Ichigo almost pitied them.

Koyonagi turned back, still smiling happily with the smallest glimmer of sadistic glee in his eyes.

Ichigo eyed him critically before grunting noncommittally and reaching for his pencil again. "Now I really know why everyone's so afraid of you. You're insane."

Koyonagi near-pouted but didn't actually deny it. "Don't go spreading it around now, Ichi-kun. I don't feel like retiring to the Maggots' Nest quite yet."

It was just Ichigo's luck that he had lowered his pencil at the same moment as _that_ statement, only to jerk a little without meaning to and ended up leaving a dark blotchy line on the blank page. He stared at it for a long moment, mind casting back to some of the... dirtier aspects of Soul Society's military that Kisuke had once told him about, and then glanced sidelong at Koyonagi who looked highly entertained. "Would they really do that? Just for having a few screws loose?"

Koyonagi grinned just a little madly before it was curbed, and the man's typical carefree expression resurfaced. "Aw, Ichi-kun, are you worried about me?"

For once, Ichigo didn't shoot back a testy retort. Instead, he recalled his own unreasonable imprisonment in Muken, the way their prison guards had, at first, left a few lights on inside that cloying darkness before eventually dousing those as well after Shinji – and presumably the others – had been hauled away.

Ichigo hated the dark nowadays. Even at night, he never fully drew the curtains, always leaving a sliver for the moonlight to seep in.

He mentally snorted with derision. Even if he closed the curtains completely, boarded up the window itself, and even stuck a towel under the door to block out the hall light, his room would still be brighter than that pitch black, hopeless prison, so damn silent that even his own heartbeat had blended into that vacuum eventually. Hell, Ichigo was probably lucky that he had been bleeding out, causing him to drift in and out of consciousness and occasionally shutting out the searing agony of being cut off from the other parts of his soul and his untreated bloody injuries and that darkness always, _always_ closing in around him and-

"_Ichi-kun_."

A sharp elbow jabbed into his ribs, and Ichigo doubled over a little, biting off the tail-end of a swearword before pinning Koyonagi with an automatic glare even as his hands trembled on top of his books. He hastily thrust them underneath the table. "_What?_"

Koyonagi wasn't smiling anymore, green eyes focused and assessing. "...Where were you?"

Ichigo swore he sometimes missed half the conversation when Koyonagi was talking to him. "What do you mean where was I? I was right here unless I somehow decided to sleepwalk all of a sudden."

Koyonagi actually had the gall to give him an admonishing look. "Don't play dumb, Ichi-kun, it doesn't suit you. Where were you?"

Ichigo's brow furrowed, about to snap back that he _wasn't_ playing dumb, thank you very much, and then he replayed the instructor's question in his mind and his insides froze.

Koyonagi had said he was full of mysteries in his previous ramblings, and now... Well, the older Shinigami was certainly more perceptive than Ichigo would've preferred. He would just have to be more careful from here on out or Koyonagi might actually pick up on even more damning hints to Ichigo's past.

"I was just thinking about something," Ichigo grumbled, inwardly shaking off the last of his latest flashbacks. He had to concentrate on the here and now; he could spend his sleepless nights having mental breakdowns.

"Like what?" Koyonagi prodded, eagle-eyed and patient.

Ichigo frowned at the man. "Like nothing you'd be interested in."

He considered his next words for a second before adding brusquely, just to put it out there (because there was something alarmingly suicidal about the way Koyonagi occasionally acted), "Most Shinigami have a few screws loose. All the best Shinigami are. Just don't go overboard. It'll be troublesome if I have to break you out from prison or something."

Koyonagi studied him for a stifling minute longer before exhaling shortly and smiling winningly at him again, graciously letting Ichigo change the subject. "Ichi-kun, your skill at comforting people rank only slightly above your skill in Kidou."

Ichigo rolled his eyes again but was too grateful that Koyonagi had dropped the issue that he refrained from snarking something back. "Whatever. You gonna help me or what?"

Koyonagi sighed dramatically. "If I must, and since you ask _so_ nicely."

And before Ichigo could point out that Koyonagi was the one who had insisted on sitting down in the first place, the instructor had pushed a few of the irrelevant books aside, scooting an inch closer to pull out a fresh scroll for Ichigo to start over on.

"Forget that last seal," Koyonagi said, flicking away the seal that Ichigo had been drawing before Koyonagi had arrived. "You've complicated it too much. Start with the basics and work your way up. Each seal is always made by layers so, with that logic in mind, you wouldn't pile something on top of a weak foundation. The entire thing would just collapse. This is the biggest difference between Hadou and Bakudou. Hadou requires a sufficient amount of reiatsu, good aim, and control; no collapsing involved, and the control is really only for measuring the reiatsu output, as well as how much of it you can handle at once, before releasing a Hadou spell. Bakudou on the other hand..."

The man trailed off and raised his eyebrows at Ichigo. Ichigo wavered, and then suggested, "A steady output of reiatsu to maintain the spell?"

Koyonagi released a mournful sigh. "Of course; textbook answer."

Ichigo sulked just a little. "It's not _just_ from about several_ hundred_ scrolls and textbooks; Aoba's said it too, more than once."

Koyonagi snorted at the mere mention of Ichigo's Kidou instructor. "Remind me to poison his lunch tomorrow since he's clearly poisoning the minds of the next generation of Shinigami."

Ichigo pinched the bridge of his nose. "The scariest thing about this is I don't think you're joking. About the poisoning his lunch part. You realize Aoba's lessons are universally agreed upon by all the other instructors, right?"

Koyonagi looked offended. "What am I then? _I_ certainly don't agree."

Ichigo threw his hands up. "And why not? What's the answer then?"

Koyonagi smiled, holding up a finger. "Creativity."

Ichigo stared at him in disbelief. "'Creativity'."

Koyonagi chuckled, reaching over to pluck the pencil from Ichigo's hand before setting it against the blank page. "Watch."

And Ichigo watched as Koyonagi sketched out a traditional Japanese house in the next five minutes before snatching up the drawing, cramming all of Ichigo's belongings back into his bag, offered a disarming smile at one of the librarians that sent her scurrying over to their table to clean up after them, and then dragged Ichigo back to the Academy and into an empty training area.

"Bakudou," Koyonagi spoke up at last, handing Ichigo the drawing before raising his hands. "Is all about picturing what you want to create in your head. Most people boast of their competency in Hadou, that Hadou is harder to perfect than Bakudou because of their destructive abilities in battle, but this is untrue. Most Shinigami simply have not explored the full extent of Bakudou. They only know the binding spells taught at the Academy, and they spend their lives improving those alone. They largely forget or ignore the barriers and seals that are also classified under Bakudou, and those are the ones that can be extremely tricky to create. However, at the same time, they can be much... more... powerful."

Ichigo remained silent as reiatsu gathered in Koyonagi's hands before shooting out and surging upwards, expanding every which way in an explosion of golden light before receding and solidifying into the Japanese house he had drawn earlier, the only differencesbeing the shimmer of reiatsu pulsing in the walls.

Ichigo could admit to being a little impressed because Hachi and Tessai had been the only ones he had ever seen manage something even remotely similar to this (though theirs had been more along the lines of high-walled prisons), but he still had to ask, "How exactly would this help in a battle though?"

Koyonagi's mouth quirked up into a smirk, and twitched a finger. One of the shoji doors slid open in an eerie invitation for someone to step inside. Ichigo couldn't see anything but dark empty space through the door. You couldn't pay him to go in there willingly.

"Like I said, Ichi-kun," Koyonagi said softly, moving his hands with the flighty elegance of an orchestra's conductor. The door slid shut again, only for it to morph into hundreds of writhing gold snakes formed completely out of reiatsu. Another twist of Koyonagi's wrist and the serpents poured inside, straight through the house and out the other side, shattering one side of the house and most likely would've obliterated whoever had been trapped in this deceptively peaceful-looking setup.

"It's all down to creativity," Koyonagi repeated as he waved his hands and the Bakudou spell – Barrier? Seal? – dissipated into the air. "It's your reiatsu; it's up to you to do with it what you will. For someone like you, with your vast reserves of reiatsu, your only limitation is..."

Koyonagi poked him on the forehead, and Ichigo was still a bit too stunned to swat the provocative hand away. Holy crap, not even Tessai had ever pulled shit like that with Kidou.

"Be creative," Koyonagi advised once again as Ichigo blinked dazedly and focused on the instructor. The older Shinigami looked amused again, and more than a little pleased with Ichigo's reaction. "Seals like the one I just performed require a certain flexibility in your reiatsu, not the rigidity and steady suspension of your Bakudou spells that most Kidou instructors would teach. Let your reiatsu flow; don't try to dam it up or lock it in place even after you release it. And start out simple; don't layer so many seals together when one will do. It's not even really about the spells or the incantations or the seals themselves; they're just guidelines for you to work with. The real trick is to hold the type of seal you want to create in your mind and just let your reiatsu build it for you. Sketching it out usually helps you hold the image in your mind more easily but true masters don't have to; they wouldn't have time to do that on the battlefield anyway."

Ichigo just glanced back at the now empty plot of land once more before demanding, "Why aren't you teaching Kidou? And why aren't the other Kidou instructors teaching this?"

Koyonagi shrugged. "Well, for one, what I just did requires quite a bit of stamina, something you absolutely do not have to worry about, unlike practically every other student at the Academy, who are still increasing their reiatsu levels to an acceptable degree. And secondly, this sort of Kidou is normally too... complicated for Shinigami-in-training. Most don't learn this stuff unless they have enough potential to be selected for the Kidou Corps, but again, it's not that you lack potential, it's just that you have too much reiatsu. This type of Kidou is perfect for you."

Ichigo frowned. "And you aren't teaching it because...?"

Koyonagi side-eyed him before shrugging again, the motion easy and relaxed. "I prefer Zanjutsu, Ichi-kun."

Ichigo knew a deflection when he heard one but Koyonagi had been kind enough not to push earlier with Ichigo's momentary relapse so Ichigo didn't say anything now. He was curious but if Koyonagi didn't want to talk about it, that was fine too.

"Well personally," Ichigo started off lightly instead. "I think you've got a better chance of beating me with Kidou than a blade, but hey, whatever. You gonna teach me how to build a fancy house with reiatsu now?"

Koyonagi huffed a laugh and began ushering him back into the Academy, lecturing him about the importance of meditation and starting simple first before firing off something as advanced as an entire trick-house.

Ichigo thought it was kind of unfair because it was ridiculously hard to dislike Koyonagi when the man was in teacher-mode instead of spending his time teasing Ichigo. The older Shinigami was a good teacher, and pretty much the only instructor that Ichigo actually put in the effort to get along with.

Sort of. Well no, not really, but Ichigo tolerated Koyonagi's migraine-inducing presence; that alone had to count for something.

Later, back in his own dorm, Ichigo paced the length of his room, griped wordlessly at Koyonagi's actions in general, scowled at nothing in particular, and then finally relented and pinned the picture of the traditional Japanese house on one piece of the wall beside one of the bookshelves instead of throwing it out.

He swore that would be his goal in his Kidou studies from now on.

**{4}**

It was time.

Ichigo swallowed hard as he leaned against one side of a random building. All he had to do was walk three steps to the right, turn a corner, and the Shiba compound would be straight ahead.

He had shucked his school uniform for the night, and while he had brought his Zanpakutou (it would be a cold day in hell before he would even _consider_ leaving his sword behind), he wasn't wearing his black Shihakushou either. Instead, he'd chosen a dark blue kimono with a shower of white fireworks sewn down one side starting at his left hip; classic Shiba clothes.

He had left early too, just in case Kaien decided to come pick him up. Ichigo could walk there by himself, and he was anxious enough about the impending dinner without having Kaien beside him the entire way as well. He had used the unhurried stroll from the Academy to the Shiba compound to calm his nerves. Somewhat.

He had taken the long way around – as well as circled back three times but nobody ever needed to know that – and now he was hiding – yes, he was fucking hiding – around a street corner, trying to somehow psych himself up for the next three hours.

Part of him wanted to just say screw the whole thing and flee, but he had never been the sort to run away from his problems, nor was he the type to break his promises, so.

So, he was going to man up and _go_.

Ichigo drew in a deep breath, grimaced one more time at the bottle of sake he had bought, and then forced his feet to move.

He could tackle madmen and monsters, live through torture and literally even Hell itself; a family dinner should be a freakin' cakewalk.

Except it really wasn't.

Ichigo approached cautiously, jaw clenching involuntarily as he came within sight of the main entrance. The guards on either side recognized him straight away, swiftly straightening to attention and bowing to him once Ichigo was within a few steps of them.

"Welcome home, Ichigo-dono," They chorused with such genuine – if formal – delight that Ichigo almost did a double-take.

"Uh, yeah, thanks," Ichigo murmured lamely, bobbing his head in a semblance of a mini-bow of returned acknowledgement before sweeping past their suddenly scandalized expressions.

Huh. Weird. But whatever.

The front courtyard was empty but Ichigo knew that most large meals were held outside behind the main house. Kukaku had told him that in his own timeline.

He slipped around the large building, ears already picking up the sound of laughter and chatter. Hesitantly, he ducked around the last corner, sticking to the shadows as he surveyed the scene before his eyes.

Holy shit.

He had a _lot_ of family.

Ichigo watched various children running around playing tag, and other adults milling about sharing drinks and conversation. Only some of them were retainers; the rest were definitely Shibas if their physical features were anything to go by.

Kukaku had given him a basic rerun of the Shiba Clan's history, told him that they were once a pretty large family even if they weren't as big as the other Noble Clans. But the fall of their clan had seen most of the retainers either dismissed or killed, and most of their family either scattered on the wind throughout Rukongai or... well, killed.

By the Onmitsukidou.

Kukaku had never given Ichigo the details, just that after Kaien had died, Aizen had fabricated enough evidence to condemn most of the Shiba Clan for a list of long-ass crimes that they had had nothing to do with.

It had been a massacre, Kukaku had said with burning rage and bitter resentment. Most of the children had been spared (and Ichigo had been horrified to hear the 'most') but most of the adults had been assassinated practically overnight. That was how the Onmitsukidou worked; they were given orders for this or that assassination, and then they were allowed to carry it out without any explanation to any related parties of the targets.

For the good of Soul Society.

Ichigo's own father had been made Clan Head after Kaien, but the Shiba Clan had been stripped of their prestige and privileges also overnight, and had been booted out of Seireitei at the first opportunity.

The only reason Isshin had remained with the Gotei 13, as Kukaku had revealed, had been because of his squad; Isshin hadn't wanted to desert them.

It wouldn't happen this time around, Ichigo swore as he watched a pair of dark-haired twins run by, giggling between themselves and sharing glances filled with silent words the way only siblings and old friends could.

"Oh, Ichigo, you're here!"

Ichigo was torn between dread and relief as he shifted his gaze and saw Kaien hurrying towards him, grinning broadly with Kukaku a step behind him.

"Finally!" Kukaku huffed, bounding forward and, before Ichigo could even blink, threw her arms around him in a bear hug as if they had known each other for decades. "And here I was just about to send Kaien off to fetch you. How have you been? Enjoying the Academy?"

"Um, yeah," Ichigo stammered out, giving Kukaku an awkward pat on the back to make her let go. "I've been fine. And the Academy's... fine too. Uh, here."

He thrust out the bottle of alcohol, ignoring the way Kaien was snickering under his breath at Ichigo's expense.

Kukaku rolled her eyes even as she accepted the wine. "Oh for goodness' sakes, you're coming home for dinner, not going to a party. You didn't have to bring anything, Ichigo. Plus, this is definitely not enough to go around."

Ichigo just shrugged, scanning the yard again, eyes lingering on the various Shibas all peering over at him with curious but friendly eyes. "It's actually just for you. An... apology for not coming around for the past six months."

Actually, Rangiku had been the one to nag him into it after she had wrangled the details out of him, and Ichigo had finally relented just to shut her up.

He glanced back in time to catch the affectionate quirk of Kukaku's mouth before the woman smirked at him and reached up to ruffle his hair. "You're adorable, Ichigo, though remind me to work on expanding your range of adjectives if you can only come up with 'fine' to describe your wellbeing and education. Ooh, you managed to guess my favourite type of sake too, so I'll forgive you just this once. Don't be a stranger from now on."

And then she swept away, no doubt to open the bottle of alcohol. Kaien sidled up to him, elbowing him playfully. "So where's my gift? I distinctly remember being brushed off for months as well."

Ichigo snorted. "And I spent months being annoyed by you; we're even. Now where's the food? The sooner I eat, the sooner I'll be able to leave."

Truth be told, all the inquisitive gazes focused on him was just making him even antsier. It was mind-boggling to realize that almost everyone here would've been his older cousins or aunts or uncles had they actually still been alive by the time he had been born.

And Ichigo had thought once upon a time that his only family had been a dead mother, Goat-Face, and two sisters.

"Don't be like that," Kaien was chiding exasperatedly. "Come on, I'll introduce everyone. Don't worry if you don't remember everybody's names by the end of the night. No one expects you to; there's just too many of us."

And that was how Ichigo was integrated into the Shiba family; into _his_ family. For the next half hour, he went around being bombarded by claps on the back and even more hugs, with the occasional bow thrown in. Nobody looked like they wanted to boot Ichigo out the door, and everyone seemed to have at least a handful of welcoming words and a smile ready for him.

"And there's Akio and Tomoe," Kaien was pointing over at a couple sitting on the porch, both dark-haired and sharp-featured as they talked in low tones, their eyes either on each other or on a group of children tossing a ball around. "They've got two kids – our something cousins something times removed; I've never bothered memorizing it all – over there; a girl and a boy – Kazue and Akihiro."

Thankfully, Kaien seemed to have picked up Ichigo's discomfort and had finally relented, not dragging him over to go through another round of hugs and small talk.

"Oh, and there's my brother!" Kaien brightened up, latching onto Ichigo's arm and dragging him over to the house again just as Ganju stepped outside, a plate heaped with food in his hands. "Hey Ganju, over here!"

Ichigo took a fortifying breath and stomped down on the wedge of pain in his chest. As far as interactions went, he actually hadn't been as close to Ganju as he had been to Kukaku in the end, especially since the former had died three years into the war. And overall, both Ganju and Kukaku hadn't been as close to him as Rukia or Renji or some of Ichigo's other close friends.

So he could do this.

"Ganju, you remember Ichigo," Kaien started, smiling between his brother and Ichigo. "And Ichigo, I think you only sort of glimpsed Ganju last time. Anyway, this is my baby brother; even Kukaku's older."

Ganju (not wearing a bandanna, shorter hair, features not as hard or guarded) rolled his eyes in that oh-my-god-don't-embarrass-me-I'm-not-a-kid way only younger siblings knew how to pull off before grinning at Ichigo. "Hey, man! Good to see you again. Honestly, Nee-san was storming around ranting about you going AWOL, so good on you for coming back and stopping her rampage. Want some food? You can have my plate; I'll go inside and get another one. Nii-san, I'll grab you one too."

And with that cheerful note, Ganju shoved his plate into Ichigo's hands and ambled back into the house for more grub, leaving Ichigo staring dumbfounded at the load of food dumped on him.

Kaien just laughed, hooking a hand around Ichigo's elbow and leading him to a nearby table. "Ganju likes his food, and he's actually a better cook than our cooks; drives the staff up the wall whenever he decides he wants to whip up a three-course meal. I think it gives them a complex or something when he shows them all up. He made at least two-thirds of the stuff on your plate today."

Ichigo quirked a wry smile. That sounded like Ganju; even in the future, Koganehiko and Shiroganehiko had always looked downright depressed whenever Ganju had volunteered to cook a meal.

"So... what about you?" Ichigo prompted, sticking a mouthful of fish in his mouth. One of his... aunts? Looked like she wanted to come over and talk to him. Talking to Kaien was at least less awkward. "You've got everything from cousins to great-uncles. Don't you have a wife or something?"

Kaien looked equal parts pleased and self-conscious. "Never thought I'd ever hear you ask about my love life, but for your information, no I don't. Just haven't found the right woman yet, I guess."

Ichigo mentally frowned. Kaien had had a wife – Miyako – but perhaps not yet?

"And what about you?" Kaien continued, grinning evilly now. "I've seen you around with that blonde – Matsumoto? Very nice figure, and she's got enough patience to put up with you. You have good taste, cousin."

Ichigo glared, swallowing another bite. "It's not like that, moron. We're just... friends, I guess."

If anything, that just made Kaien look thrilled. "You're finally making friends, thank god!"

Ichigo scoffed, pausing when Ganju materialized beside them with two plates, handing one to Kaien before waving and making a beeline for a black-haired woman several dozen feet away.

"Ganju's latest girlfriend, Yuina," Kaien explained when Ichigo frowned a little in puzzlement. "Daughter of one of our retainers, so not related, or if we are, very, _very_ distantly related, just in case you're wondering whether or not I promote in-breeding. I think the Kuchikis have done that a few times; would explain the stick up their collective asses."

Ichigo smothered a snicker but Kaien caught it all the same, smirking wickedly back at him.

"Anyway," Kaien tipped his head in his brother's direction. "Think this one might be a keeper, as soon as Ganju decides he wants to settle down anyway, and that's probably gonna take another few decades. They've been dating for going on ten years now. Or, well, dated for three years, broke up for one, and then got back together again. And let me tell you, that year was horrible. Ganju walked around with a perpetual cloud of depression hanging over him, _pining_. It was cute at first but it got old fast. Kukaku got fed up one day, tied Ganju up, dumped him on Yuina's doorstep, and told them not to show their faces again until they had worked out their problems."

This time, Ichigo couldn't help barking out a laugh even as he wracked his brain for a Shiba Yuina on the memorial stone that Kukaku had had, every single Shiba name carved into the surface. Had he forgotten? But then, Ganju had never mentioned any wife or even fiancé. Maybe Yuina had been one of the ones assassinated? Or Kaien was wrong and they had broken up and parted ways?

"You don't have elders, right?" Ichigo mused thoughtfully. He knew Shinigami in general dated longer than Humans did, but clan members, especially the ones at the top of the hierarchy, usually married after a year or so for political reasons.

"_We_ don't have elders," Kaien corrected. "Which is why our courtships always make the Kuchikis and even Shihouins turn up their noses. No arranged marriages or anything stupid, so we actually have breakups, and our married couples don't consist of two strangers smiling politely at each in public and giving each other the cold shoulder in private. _We're_ actually allowed to fall in love. Or stay single."

He grinned at Ichigo. "I love this clan, and _that_ is definitely one of the reasons why."

Not for the first time, Ichigo counted himself lucky for being born into the Shiba Clan and not a more stringent one.

"I'm home and I'm starving! Get me some of everything!"

Ichigo froze when he heard the familiar voice float out from inside the house, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. Around him, no one really reacted besides the occasional brief glance. Across from him, Kaien perked up.

"Oh, Isshin-ji's home!" Kaien half-rose from his seat. "He had to work late today but he promised to be back in time to meet you. Guess he managed to finish faster than expected. Oi, Isshin-ji! Over here!"

Ichigo didn't turn around, even when his father – _his father_ – called back a greeting, the man's reiatsu signature making its way towards them.

Right, he had to stay calm. Stay calm, and preferably not freak out and make everyone think he was some sort of head case.

"It's plain unfair how soft Ukitake-taichou is on you, Kaien," Isshin complained from less than five steps behind Ichigo. "I bet my captain wants to work me to death one day."

Kaien snorted. "You're just lazy, Ji-san. Anyway, come meet Ichigo. Last time you saw him, he was still unconscious."

'_Breathe_,' Zangetsu whispered in the depths of Ichigo's mind, and Ichigo obeyed without protest when he realized he _wasn't_ breathing.

A large hand landed on his shoulder, and it took everything Ichigo had not to jump a foot in the air. Biting the inside of his cheek, he braced himself and looked up.

His father didn't have any facial hair.

Ichigo almost dissolved into hysterical laughter when that turned out to be the first thought that popped into his mind. Apparently, one century ago, Shiba Isshin had no facial hair, kept his hair shorter, and seemed to have grown sideburns instead.

Overall, he looked younger, less weighed down. It wasn't as if Ichigo's father had looked particularly old in his time, but that Isshin had still had a few more lines creasing his face. This Isshin didn't.

"Hey there!" Isshin beamed down at him jovially, and Ichigo's breath hitched again, something vice-like squeezing his heart. "Looks like I've gained myself another nephew, huh? Bit late, but welcome to the family. Feel free to call me Isshin-ji; all my cute little nephews and nieces do."

Ichigo nodded back stiffly, trying his hardest not to throw up. Or tear up; whichever.

"Hi," He managed to mumble back, digging his nails into the palm of his hand and concentrating on the pain there instead of what felt like a knife through his heart. "Nice to meet you."

A curious expression passed over Isshin's face as he slid into the empty seat beside Kaien (Ichigo cursed in his head). "A quiet one, aren't you? Well, spend more time with us and we'll soon break you out of that habit."

Ichigo attempted a smile, failed, and went for the vegetables just to occupy his mouth. Isshin didn't seem to mind as he rambled on about his day, about the Tenth Division's Sixth Seat dropping an entire armful of paperwork in the hallway today which resulted in two hours of reorganizing all of it, and basically jumping from topic to topic between bites of his dinner, keeping up a steady stream of conversation with Kaien even as they both tried to coax Ichigo into participating.

Ichigo just _really_ wanted to leave.

And because Ichigo had shitty luck, that – of course – didn't happen. Even worse, the conversation had somehow circled back to Kaien reiterating the chat that he and Ichigo had been having about clan laws and family.

"You asked him if he had a wife?" Isshin cackled, reaching out to ruffle Kaien's hair. "I think at least three-quarters of the women in Seiretei would riot if that ever happened. Our Kaien-sama here is _very_ popular with the ladies. The rest of us might as well be road kill for all the attention women pay us when he's around. Actually, we don't even rank road kill; at least women would notice _that_."

Kaien rolled his eyes and heaved a long-suffering sigh, evidently having heard things along these lines before. "Well if you didn't act like a pervert every time some girl comes up to you, they might actually give you the time of day. Might even agree to marry you one day if you're exceptionally lucky and _she's_ exceptionally patient. Like, one-hundred-saints patient. And doesn't take any of your shit."

Ichigo's breath caught in his lungs.

"Meh," Isshin waved his chopsticks in the air. "I'm not looking to get tied down anyway, not right now at least. If I did though," He paused in thought, and the rarely-seen solemn side of Isshin surfaced for a split second. "I'd want a couple children to go with the woman of my dreams. Maybe one or two girls to spoil rotten. And definitely a son I can be proud of-"

Snap!

Ichigo stared uncomprehendingly at his broken chopsticks for several seconds, more aware of the ringing sound in his ears, the bile rising in his throat, and the image of his blood-soaked, weary-looking father still – _still_ – grinning at Ichigo like the proudest man in the world than the twin startled looks he was receiving from across the table.

"Sorry," He muttered at last, avoiding eye-contact as he got to his feet. "Strong grip. I'll go get another pair; carry on without me."

And without waiting for Isshin or Kaien's acknowledgement, Ichigo turned tail and fled, walking as quickly as he could towards the house without making it look like he was running away.

He stumbled into the house, earning alarmed and worried looks from various retainers all keeping a large table of food fully stocked.

"Um, could you- point me to the bathroom?" Ichigo enquired shakily as he accosted the nearest employee.

"Yes, of course, Ichigo-dono," The woman pointed through one door. "Out that way, turn right, third door on your left. Are you okay, sir?"

Ichigo nodded feverishly and lingered long enough to thank the woman before Shunpoing away at top speed, barely managing to clatter into the bathroom and slam the door behind him before he was on his knees and throwing up into the toilet, shuddering and choking and trying to _forgetforgetforget_-

"Easy," A familiar voice murmured as a warm hand settled on his back, rubbing soothingly even as another hand smoothed back his hair from his sweaty forehead. "You'll be alright. Deep breaths when you can."

Ichigo gasped raggedly, focusing on Kaien's voice as he beat back the surge of distressing memories, dragging his mind back to the here and now instead of that other lifetime.

By the time he had stopped heaving up his dinner, leaning back into the well-muscled arm wrapped around his shoulder, Ichigo didn't even have enough energy to feel humiliated.

He let Kaien help him up to rinse out his mouth before settling him against one wall of the bathroom, watching silently as his cousin flushed the toilet before producing a clean cloth from one of the drawers, putting it under the tap and then returning to Ichigo and crouching down to wipe gently at his sweat-damp face.

_Like I'm a child_, Ichigo thought scornfully, but he couldn't bring himself to push Kaien away or kick the man out.

When he finished, Kaien simply tossed the towel into the sink before taking a seat beside Ichigo, shoulder to shoulder.

"Wanna talk about it?" Kaien spoke up after five minutes had ticked by.

"Talk about what?" Ichigo spat back cagily, and then instantly regretted it because Kaien really was just trying to help. Problem was, Ichigo _couldn't_ talk about it. And if he was honest, he was crap at lying too.

"_Do you want to know the trick to telling a good lie, Ichigo?"_ Kisuke's voice suddenly echoed in his head. _"It's very simple; stick as many truths into it as you can. Never tell an outright lie, especially if you're an honest person. One whole lie will only lead to another, and before you know it, you'll be entangled in a web that you won't be able to talk your way out of. Half-truths are always better."_

Ichigo stared at the ground. On one hand, he could just brush Kaien off per usual. It wasn't as if his cousin could actually do anything to _make_ Ichigo talk. But on the other hand...

Ichigo had never had an older brother figure, but he wondered if this was sort of what it was like, to have someone come back again and again, worrying when something was wrong, always ready to help. In his own time, Ichigo had been the protector, the one who looked after everyone else, and neither he nor anyone else had really thought that Ichigo would need protecting. Things just didn't work that way.

And maybe that was part of why he was so easily annoyed by Kaien all the time. Ichigo's old friends knew he wasn't much of a social butterfly and left it at that. They would invite him to the arcade or something, and sometimes he went, but if he refused, they were okay with that too. _Kaien_ however didn't seem to understand the meaning of 'no'. His cousin was always, _always_ pushing, never letting Ichigo shut him out, and it was confusing and irritating and-

"He reminds me of my father," Ichigo blurted out before he could censor it.

Kaien cocked his head, eyes sharp and soft at the same time. "Isshin-ji?"

Ichigo shrugged and nodded, forcing a sardonic smile. "Some facial hair, get rid of the sideburns, maybe let the hair grow a little, and you'd have my old man."

He stopped, absently picking at a hangnail on his thumb. "...He was- He wasn't the best father in the world, but he tried his best, after Kaa-san died. Kaa-san balanced the family out, you know, and without her, the scales tipped, and my dad's never been- well, he's better with girls. Doesn't do so well with a son as... independent as me."

He paused again, one hand moving up to press against his eyes when they started stinging. "...But that bastard, the last thing he ever said was that he was proud of me. And then that son of a bitch had the balls to tie me up and dump me- hide me away from- from the person who was attacking us, and I never saw him again. Or, well, I did; had to go back for what was left of the body."

He hesitated once more, and then tacked on just in case, "Don't really remember everything that happened after that."

Not exactly a lie. Ichigo _didn't_ remember some of the time he had spent in Aizen's tender loving care when he had been captured later on in the war, not to mention _after_ the war when he had been bleeding out in Muken, closer to dead than alive.

"I mean, I've seen him around," Ichigo blathered on when Kaien remained silent. He hated walking around with so many secrets all of a sudden, and if he couldn't get rid of those, then he could at least clear his head of a few of his worst memories. "Your uncle, I mean. I guess he's my uncle too now. But he looks like- And I didn't mean to flip out earlier-"

"That's why you didn't want to come home," Kaien interjected at last, quiet and sad and understanding. "I noticed that. You were okay with the rest of the family, even Kukaku and Ganju, and I think I was even getting you to relax when we sat down for dinner, but the moment Isshin-ji came home, you looked like someone had knifed you in the back."

Ichigo shrugged again, not denying it, and letting Kaien form his own conclusions by himself. He felt drained and exhausted, but a little... lighter, perhaps. He didn't want to discuss this any further though, didn't want Kaien to pursue this topic anymore because it was enough that the lieutenant had _listened_, and that really was all Ichigo had wanted, and he certainly didn't want to hear apologies or condolences. He just wanted this night to be over.

Fortunately for him, Kaien really could be shrewdly tactful when he wanted to be.

"Alright, come on," The lieutenant levered himself to his feet before holding out a hand for Ichigo to take. "Up you get."

Ichigo squinted up at his cousin before warily accepting the hand, still feeling slightly light-headed and wobbly on his feet. "Where are we going? I don't really feel like eating anymore."

"I can see that," Kaien ran a hand through his hair before herding Ichigo towards the closed door. "So I've got two options for you – one, I can't cook as well as Ganju but I make a mean pot of tea. I can whip up something to soothe your stomach and calm your nerves, and then get you back to the Academy when you feel up to making the trip."

Ichigo didn't really feel like tea. Truthfully, he just wanted to curl up in bed and forget the shitstorm that his life had been thrown into since he was fifteen. Maybe even since he was nine and his mother had died.

"What's option two?" Ichigo asked suspiciously.

Kaien quirked a dry smile at him. "I break out the alcohol and we both get drunk off our asses. Ukitake-taichou can manage without me for one day so I can call in sick tomorrow and give you a pass for your classes as well. No need to work with raging hangovers, and we'll both stay cooped up in my room all night drinking if you want, and be miserable together in the morning."

Ichigo stared at his cousin. The man was offering to skip work and play hooky just to keep him company. Just because Ichigo was stupid enough to have a highly uncalled for meltdown in the bathroom.

"Can we go with option two?" He attempted a feeble half-smile, half-smirk. He didn't like drinking, but some good old alcohol in his system might be just what he needed.

Kaien slung an arm around his shoulders, drawing Ichigo in until his cousin had all but wrapped him in a one-armed hug.

"Yeah," Kaien glanced at him, gaze warm and steady. "We can do that. Nothing like an evening with alcohol and family to help lighten your problems. Always there when you need it."

The second to last thought Ichigo recalled clearly before he reached for his first cup of sake that night was that he was pretty sure that Kaien had meant the family part and not the alcohol part.

The very last thought, troublingly enough, was that Ichigo really, _really_ wanted to believe him.

**{4}**

"Shiba-kun, where were you? Asuka-chan and I couldn't find you yesterday."

Ichigo slowed his pace just enough for Rangiku to catch up.

"Family stuff," He grunted, mind casting back to the hammering headache he and Kaien had shared. An unbidden smile twitched at his lips when he remembered how he had shown his cousin how to manipulate his reiatsu in that way that only Unohana and her seated officers could to get rid of their respective hangovers. Apparently, that trick that Unohana had shown him during the war wasn't widely known. Kaien had promised not to spread it around, all while grinning gleefully at the newfound knowledge.

"Wow, that family stuff must've been something else."

Ichigo glanced to the side. Rangiku was peering up at him now, astonishment and curiosity colouring her features. "What?"

"You're _smiling_," Rangiku pointed out, and Ichigo immediately made an effort to plaster his typical scowl back on his face. "I've known you for like, a month, and this is the first time I've ever seen you genuinely smile. Weren't you angsting for weeks about going home?"

"I wasn't _angsting_," Ichigo groused. "And the dinner and my family didn't turn out to be _that_ bad. I had a... satisfactory time."

Rangiku just laughed and shook her head, shifting her arms to get a better grip on the books she was holding. "Only you would call spending time with your family 'satisfactory'."

Ichigo grumbled a little under his breath but said nothing else. True to his word, Kaien had gotten them both drunk that evening, and then they had spent the entire next day lazing about the house like a couple of jobless bums, not really doing anything but eating, reading, playing shogi (or Kaien teaching Ichigo how to play shogi), and washing all the dirty laundry in the house (because Kukaku had decided that they needed punishing for ditching the family; in Ichigo's humble opinion, he was fairly certain that Kukaku had just been miffed that he and Kaien had polished off half the liquor cabinet without her consent).

"Oh look!" Rangiku interrupted his thoughts, finger pointing at a knot of students crowded at one end of the study hall. "It's the tournament signup! Are you going to participate?"

Ichigo followed Rangiku towards the board where what looked like a third of the school population had converged on. He was more than a little perplexed. "Tournament signup? What tournament?"

Rangiku blinked at him. "The yearly tournament for fourth- to sixth-years? They announced it at the opening ceremony at the beginning of the year."

Ichigo shrugged. "I wasn't there. Only reason I got in this year was because Kaien pulled a few strings for me. I was sitting my exams during that assembly."

Or so he had been told anyway. Kaien had mentioned it in passing four or five months ago. Ichigo certainly hadn't sat any entrance exams, much less passed them, though he was sure he would've breezed through those too if he had.

"Oh, well that would explain it," Rangiku nodded to the mass of students again. "It's a ranking tournament for the higher-levelled students, nothing serious – it's just something to encourage the students to work harder and let us show off our skills to the Shinigami officers who might drop by and watch. But anything goes – Zanjutsu, Kidou, Hadou, Hohou, everything. Obviously, you can't kill anyone; a battle ends when the opponent is knocked out or forfeits, and the entire tournament takes place over two weeks. All classes are put on hold, and the only requirement to enter is that you have to be in your last three years at the Academy, or if you get special permission from a department head."

Ichigo arched an eyebrow. "So it's basically an organized series of fights where people get to kick other people's asses in front of important and not-so-important people and hopefully get noticed. In a good light."

Rangiku grinned, giving him a thumbs-up. "Yup, that's basically it. Winners advance, losers drop out, and at the end, there's a first, second, and third place winner for each year group. There'll be different money prizes for them, and the first place winner graduating that year is guaranteed a place in any squad of their choice. Of course, that doesn't mean they won't be demoted or kicked out, but the captain won't refuse them entry."

Rangiku looked somewhat wistful at that. "I've participated in the last two but I never lasted, though I did get third place last year. I'll try my hand at it again this year though. What about you? You'd probably sweep the entire thing."

Ichigo couldn't deny that, and he had no interest in fighting against – for all intents and purposes – children. So he shook his head, a plan forming in his mind and a smirk growing on his face. "No. I have someone better in mind."

Rangiku wasn't stupid. Two seconds later, an answering smirk graced her features as well.

"You better help me step up my training too, Shiba-kun," She announced adamantly. "If you're going to be signing Asuka-chan up. She's going to _destroy_ the competition."

Ichigo's smirk widened. His student was going to freak out. But it'd be worth it.

**{4}**

"Sh- Shiba-san! I can't do it!"

Ichigo ignored this as he had all the other times. "Yes you can, and you will. This is the perfect opportunity to boost your confidence."

"I'm already doing better in class!" Fujiwara protested as she jogged to keep up with Ichigo's longer strides. Her bottom lip stuck out just a little in an involuntary pout. Ichigo privately thought that the girl would be a force to reckon with if she ever learned to wield that consciously. "I don't have to- to fight in front of the entire school! They'll- They'll laugh at me!"

Ichigo scoffed, pausing at a food stall long enough to buy two plates of dango before passing one to Fujiwara. He was feeling nice today (he swore Kaien had done something to mellow him out because it was getting annoyingly hard to stay brusque and irritable with everyone), and Fujiwara had actually managed to go two hours of nonstop sparring without falling flat on her face or needing Ichigo to carry her back.

Improvement. _Huge_ improvement, and Ichigo would be lying if he said he wasn't pleased with her progress. The girl wasn't even stuttering all that much anymore, though that was probably the result of Ichigo _and_ Rangiku's combined effort.

"Why would they laugh at you?" Ichigo demanded around a mouthful of dango. "Nobody in their right mind would laugh at someone who's going to take down at least two-thirds of the competition. That's your goal, by the way – reach the semi-finals at the very least. I'm confident that you'll make it that far. Any further is entirely up to your resolve and skill, understand?"

Fujiwara was silent for a long minute, and Ichigo was perfectly content with the lack of conversation. As they turned a corner, his gaze flicked to the left at a store where he could sense his Aizen-minion-stalker hiding behind. The kid had been following him around almost twenty-four/seven for about a month now. Perhaps he should confront the Shinigami soon, get a feel for the information that the kid had compiled so far for Aizen.

He turned his attention back to Fujiwara again when she spoke, nibbling nervously at her dango as she stared ahead. "...What if I can't?"

Ichigo sent up a prayer for patience before nailing his student with a dead-eyed stare. "What if you can't? Well I'll be honest – I'm gonna be disappointed, you're gonna be disappointed, Matsumoto's gonna be disappointed, and after the tournament is over, I'm gonna make the training menu you're going through right now look like a walk in the park."

Fujiwara blanched at the very real threat, and she looked like someone had killed her dog after Ichigo had reeled off that much anticipated disappointment. "Can't I just not compete?"

"No," Ichigo answered shortly as they reached the Academy gates. "Now stop whining and eat your dango. Meet back at the front gates in fifteen minutes; we'll have to hurry. You know how Matsumoto gets when we keep her waiting."

Fujiwara quirked a smile, a tinge of wonder edging it even now after a month of solid friendship as if she still couldn't believe she actually had friends to hang out with.

"I- I still don't agree!" Fujiwara called back as she sped away towards the school.

"It's not up for discussion!" Ichigo hollered after her, glowering fiercely at a group of students gawking at the exchange as he stalked after her. They all cringed and looked away.

Good. He wasn't losing his touch.

As he made his way to his room, Ichigo thought back to the family dinner (which had turned out to be less a dinner and more a two-person drinking binge because apparently, Kaien was awesome like that, not that Ichigo would ever admit as much). Kaien had promised not to say anything Ichigo had told him to anyone else, not even Kukaku and Ganju, and especially not Isshin. His cousin had asked whether or not Ichigo wanted him to tell their uncle to stay away for a while, but Ichigo instantly turned that offer down. It wouldn't be fair to Isshin, and it wasn't as if Ichigo could avoid the man forever. So while he wouldn't be going out of his way to seek his father out, he wasn't going to ask Kaien to order Isshin to stay away either. That would just be running away.

Come to think of it, Ichigo had been doing a lot of running away up until Kaien had tricked him into going... home.

Ichigo heaved a sigh, shrugging out of his clothes and heading into the bathroom. This time-travelling business was a lot harder than fiction books made it out to be.

They never really went into detail about how much it hurt.

**{4}**

_"Follow him,"_ Aizen had said. _"Keep an eye on him. See if he will become a potential ally or a thorn that needs removing."_

And because Gin needed to be a good dog and bide his time, that was exactly what he was doing. And had been doing for over a month now.

In Gin's humble opinion, the entire venture was a huge waste of time. Even after five weeks, he still didn't have anything particularly incriminating to report back to Aizen. As far as he knew, Shiba Ichigo hadn't even activated his Shikai again so Gin couldn't even figure out what the orange-haired Shinigami's release command was. And other than the sparring sessions with that fifth-year girl, not to mention those ludicrously long and astronomically boring study sessions in the library, Shiba Ichigo didn't actually do much else.

Even worse, Gin wasn't so ignorant as to not notice the Thirteenth Division's lieutenant's overprotective attitude towards his younger cousin, as well as the way Gin's own _captain_ favoured Shiba Ichigo. He had overheard Hirako talking – more like arguing – with Kyouraku one day about who would get their hands on the upcoming genius.

A Shinigami-in-training with the patronage of at least two of the strongest captains – probably three since everyone knew that Kyouraku and Ukitake came as a package deal; where one was headed, the other was never far behind – in the Gotei 13 was not, if Gin was honest, someone to be messed with. He had, of course, told Aizen this, but the madman had predictably dismissed it in favour of his Hollow experiments. If the megalomaniac wasn't as insanely powerful and cruelly devious as he was arrogant, always believing himself to be above everyone else, Gin would've attempted an assassination by now.

The absolute worst thing about this entire mission however was the glaring fact that Shiba Ichigo was _Rangiku's friend_.

And god, that just gave Gin a whole new slew of headaches to contend with. _Why_ couldn't Rangiku befriend any one of the other non-geniuses at the Academy? Why did she have to stick to the one person who, as Gin had observed at the beginning, didn't actually seem to _want_ any friends in the first place?

Of course, that was just Gin's frustration at the situation in general speaking. He knew – at least partially – why Rangiku liked spending time with Shiba. From what Gin had seen, the genius Shinigami was the only one in the entire male population at the Academy that kept his damn eyes on her face, never once drifting down below her chin unless it was to fix her stance during a training session or check her for injuries after a spar. The bastard even had the decency to snarl at any and all students who leered at Rangiku.

Gin honestly didn't know whether he should be grateful or pissed about this.

Because Rangiku was _his_, damn it. She was the entire reason that his short-term plans and long-term plans all coincided with Aizen's now, right up until he could find the madman's weakness and stab him in the back, preferably without the consequences of imprisonment or execution after the deed was done but he was prepared for those things too if need be.

So this... prodigal Shiba was doing a good job at throwing a wrench in his plans, mostly because _Aizen_ was interested in the student. The moment that had happened, Gin had known that Shiba Ichigo's life would have only two outcomes – he would either join Aizen's cause or die for _not_ joining.

Which would make Rangiku sad, as in upset-tears kind of sad because she truly seemed attached to Shiba Ichigo.

Gin heaved an uncharacteristically aggravated sigh as he peered around the corner he was loitering behind to check on the three Shinigami eating and chatting inside the restaurant. Or at least Rangiku was chatting with that Fujiwara girl while Shiba looked to be brooding on the side.

He grimaced, leaning back against the wall behind him. Tailing someone for a month while making sure Hirako didn't notice he was missing more often than not was _not_ in his job description (it was lucky the Fifth Seat was so easy to bribe so that Gin could foist his paperwork onto the idiot). At least not in his Third Seat job description. He supposed 'anything Aizen wants' was in the job description for Fellow Traitor Who Had Pledged Their Loyalty to Aizen.

He took another quick look around the corner, eyes slitting open when he realized that only Rangiku and Fujiwara were still sitting in the booth. Shiba was gone. And neither girls looked particularly concerned so...

"Bathroom?" He muttered to himself, scanning the restaurant's interior carefully.

"Not quite," A voice behind him replied, and Gin almost jumped out of his skin, whirling around as his hand dropped to his Zanpakutou.

Shit. He _knew_ this entire venture was a Bad Idea. Damn Aizen.

Gin mentally cursed but hastily plastered on that fake smile that he usually used to charm (intimidate) other people as he stared up at the taller figure of his target. He allowed his hand to drop away from his Zanpakutou.

"Ah, ya took me by surprise," Gin hoped that sounded complimentary. It probably didn't; he wasn't used to dishing out compliments (the last time he'd tried, commenting on how Rangiku's hair was frizzing nicely in the summer heat, the blonde had punched him in the shoulder and stormed off in a snit). Shiba certainly didn't look at all flattered.

"Uh-huh," The taller Shinigami scowled at him. (Then again, Shiba had already been scowling at him so Gin didn't see that much of a difference.) "I can see that. Mind telling me why you've been stalking me?"

Inwardly, Gin bristled at the stalking accusation (even though it was sort of true) and a spark of worry lit in his gut as he wondered how long Shiba had known that Gin had been following him. Outwardly, his smile widened and he shrugged in a – hopefully – sheepish kind of way. Judging by the unimpressed arch of Shiba's eyebrows, Gin didn't do sheepish very well either. He went with Plan B.

"Maa, ya've been hangin' out with Rangiku," Gin explained. "She's a friend; I wanted ta make sure ya weren' takin' advantage of her."

True enough, except Gin had figured out that Shiba _wasn't_ taking advantage of Rangiku within the first two weeks, but nobody else needed to know that.

Shiba didn't look like he believed that was the only reason either but at least the other Shinigami didn't call him out on it.

Instead, Shiba closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose as if Gin was a child who had done something naughty, before releasing a resigned sigh. What he said next wasn't anything along the lines of what Gin had been expecting.

"Fine then," Shiba jerked his chin in the general direction of the restaurant. "You wanna join us for dinner? You know, so you can keep an eye on me?"

The last bit had an almost mocking edge to it, and Gin was inexplicably reminded of his old Zanjutsu instructor all of a sudden. And yes, Gin had seen Shiba hanging around Koyonagi (or maybe it was Koyonagi hanging around Shiba; who knew that was a possibility?) so it wasn't so unexpected that something of their personalities had probably blended.

Which, from what he remembered of the Zanjutsu teacher, was a rather disturbing and slightly frightening thought.

But this was an opportunity to get closer to Shiba, which would give Gin more chances to weasel out all of the other Shinigami's hidden abilities. It would make his job easier, and Aizen would be happy. At this point in time, that was about the only thing Gin cared about.

Plus he could make sure Rangiku didn't get _too_ attached to Shiba. It was a win-win all around.

So Gin forced himself to duck his head in apology. "Sorry 'bout that; I worry about Rangiku sometimes. I'd be glad ta join ya for dinner; I haven' had my own yet."

Shiba snorted, shaking his head at whatever he had gleaned from Gin's words before waving a hand for him to follow. "Yeah, okay, come on then."

For a moment, as he followed the other Shinigami inside the restaurant, Gin considered reminding – because surely the student had forgotten – Shiba that he was the Fifth Division's Third Seat, about a million ranks higher than a mere Academy student, and therefore should be treated accordingly.

And then he dismissed this idea. Perhaps if Shiba saw Gin as more of a peer than a superior officer, the other Shinigami would be more liable to lower his guard.

"Gin?"

Gin glanced up, and this time, his smile came more easily as he caught sight of Rangiku's surprised expression. "Rangiku, I was..."

He paused. If he said he was dogging Shiba's steps and had been more or less spying on them, Rangiku would be disappointed with him.

"Bumped into him when I stepped out for some fresh air," Shiba cut in, sliding into the empty seat beside Fujiwara. "I remembered you saying that you knew him, and he mentioned that he hadn't eaten dinner yet, so I said he could join us if he wanted to."

Gin's eyebrows twitched as Rangiku beamed first at Shiba and then at him. "Shiba-kun, that's practically saintly of you! Gin, come sit down; we've already ordered but I still have the menu. What do you want?"

As Gin slipped into the free spot next to Rangiku, smiling pleasantly at Fujiwara (and snickering mentally when she shifted uneasily), he glanced once more at Shiba.

The orange-haired Shinigami was staring back at him, sharp-eyed and knowing, mouth twisted into a speculative line.

It occurred to Gin, at that moment, that while accepting this odd arrangement where a seated officer would spend time with three Academy students might help Gin assess his target better, the opposite could also be true.

After all, Shiba Ichigo didn't look like he had believed Gin's excuses, and keeping an eye on Gin would be much easier to do if they spent time with each other.

And Shiba was a genius. Gin should've known that both their thoughts would run along the same lines.

How troublesome.

Still, it had to be done. Worst came to worst, Gin would simply tell Aizen that Shiba was a liability, and the megalomaniac would make Shiba disappear.

Easy.

**{4}**

_"And that's another win for Fujiwara! Not a single loss, and she'll be the first to reach the semi-finals!"_

Ichigo quirked a satisfied smile as Fujiwara sheathed her Zanpakutou and made her way down from the arena amidst the crowd's shocked murmurs and confused exclamations. As he had predicted prior to the tournament, his student had ripped through her competition with relative ease, all the way up to the semi-finals.

Fujiwara all but _bounced_ up to him, expression glowing and eyes bright with adrenaline. Ichigo's smile widened almost imperceptibly but his student seemed to catch it as she grinned up at him, accepting the towel he handed her to wipe her face.

"Not bad," Ichigo acknowledged as he led her to a quieter corner of the courtyard where the tournament was taking place. Like the past week and a half, disbelieving eyes followed their every move. Clearly, no one had been expecting competition from the quiet fifth-year runt, even if they _had_ noticed she was doing a lot better in class (and Ichigo wouldn't put money on that; Shinigami could be outrageously oblivious).

"Watch your left side," Ichigo instructed quietly as he passed Fujiwara a water bottle and watched her heal a gash on her arm. He knew basic healing Kidou but Fujiwara was better at it even now. "You're still leaving it open for attack when you go in for a strike. That's how you got that injury. Otherwise, you're doing well. Keep it up."

And that really was the extent of his ability at giving compliments; anymore and he'd probably start sounding more insulting than approving.

Fujiwara just smiled at him though, nodding determinedly as if Ichigo had been openly cheering her on. Girls; he'd never understand them.

"Shiba-san, can we go watch Rangiku-senpai now?" Fujiwara was already scanning the courtyard, craning her head around all the students and Shinigami officers surrounding the various arenas.

"Mm," Ichigo acquiesced with a nod, and guided her to the right where he could see Rangiku's amber hair flashing in and out of sight between the audience's heads as she fought. Ichigo had been semi-coaching both of them so he knew that Rangiku would also make it into the semi-finals if she won this battle. Her opponent however was really giving her a run for her money.

Big and muscular, and wielding his Zanpakutou like it was a battle axe or something, Rangiku's opponent went after the blonde with a vengeance. Ichigo thought this might have something to do with the fact that Rangiku had turned him down several weeks ago when he had asked for a date.

Ichigo's eyes narrowed as a sideways swipe and a follow-up punch made Rangiku stumble back, coughing out blood as she narrowly evaded a third blow that probably would've knocked her clean off her feet. Beside him, Fujiwara gasped, teetering onto the balls of her feet as apprehension flooded her features.

Around them, the students egged both parties on, some whistling for Rangiku while others mocked her crumbling defense, pointing it out to her opponent as the burly student lunged forward again, a nasty grin on his face.

Well, more than one could play that game.

"If you know where to strike, he's wide open, Matsumoto!" Ichigo barked, and his voice carried effortlessly over the catcalls of the others. Rangiku rolled out of the way, evading another slash as she glanced over at him, eyes wide. "Duck, pass, and take the enemy down, just like we practiced! I'll be pissed if you don't remember!"

Rangiku leapt up to avoid another sweep of her opponent's blade, recognition dawning in her eyes before grim resolve hardened her expression. She landed, and without missing a beat, she hurtled forward, subsequently twisting at the very last second, ducking under the other student's raised arm as she used Shunpo to aid her. Spinning on her left foot and bringing up Haineko, she attacked without hesitation, slashing smoothly in one downward swipe and drawing a diagonal line of blood down the length of her opponent's back.

It was lucky Ichigo hadn't taught her how to put her back muscles into that assault. Any stronger and the other student would've had his spine severed. Ichigo would know; he'd delivered that same attack enough times himself during the war.

As it was, the student still howled with pain, staggering forward. Rangiku didn't wait for him to regain his footing as many Shinigami, student or otherwise, tended to do (that type of foolish honour only got you killed in battle; they weren't samurai after all), and without mercy, she jumped into the air, tucking in her feet as she rose into position behind her opponent, and then uncoiled her entire body like a spring, using her momentum to slam her feet as well as her entire weight into the other student's head and upper back, simultaneously and quite effectively flooring her opponent and knocking him out.

A stunned silence momentarily fell over the audience as Rangiku flipped forward gracefully and landed on the ground once more, triumph etched all over her face. And then a roar of surprise and admiration rent the air as Rangiku blew a kiss at them before vaulting out of the arena and making a beeline towards Ichigo and Fujiwara.

"Gah!" Ichigo clicked his tongue in annoyance as Rangiku flung her arms around his neck in a hug, waiting until he had patted her clumsily on the back before letting go to seize Fujiwara's hands and doing a silly five-step dance with her, both of them giggling like they had been drinking.

Ichigo rolled his eyes. What exactly had he done in a past life to deserve this?

"You do realize neither of you have even reached the finals, right?" Ichigo interrupted gruffly, ushering both of them away from the majority of the school population. "You can celebrate later; Matsumoto, you need to patch up those injuries."

Rangiku pouted excessively, and Ichigo inwardly despaired when Fujiwara followed suit. Change the hair and eye colour so they'd match and the two could be sisters.

"Oh lighten up, Shiba-kun," Rangiku scolded, linking arms with Fujiwara. "Being gloomy all the time is no good. You should be happy whenever you can."

Fujiwara, much to Ichigo's exasperation, nodded agreeably, albeit still somewhat timidly. "Yes, Shiba-san. Both of us made it to the semi-finals; that- that should be cause for celebration, don't you think?"

"Absolutely not," Ichigo retorted instantly, recalling with some nostalgia of a time when Fujiwara couldn't even look him in the eye much less talk back to him like this.

"Hmph!" Rangiku tossed her hair back and turned her nose up in a mockingly haughty gesture. "Don't mind Grumpy-Face, Asuka-chan; we'll make him take us out for dinner tonight to make up for his utterly appalling lack of delight on our behalf."

Ichigo heaved a sigh as he trailed after them. "I'm not made of money, woman. Pay for your own meals."

Rangiku craned her head around and batted her eyes at him. "You get to have two beautiful women on your arms when you go out; that should be payment enough, Shiba-kun!"

Ichigo snorted as Fujiwara blushed. "Not interested, Matsumoto, and your bodyguard would skin me alive if I ever did anything of the sort."

"Oh Gin's not my boyfriend," Rangiku dismissed, but Ichigo was astute enough to catch the hint of melancholy darting through her eyes like quicksilver. "He wouldn't mind. Besides, I've seen more of him in the past month than I have in the past five years since he graduated."

Ichigo frowned but didn't comment. That stupid kid was going to drown himself in Aizen's plans and get himself killed – again – if Ichigo didn't do something drastic.

Killing Aizen was pretty drastic. He'd just have to do that before there were any serious casualties.

"Maybe it just took him some time to get settled in his division," Ichigo suggested offhandedly before tilting his head towards the gates several dozen feet away. "He seems like he wants to hang around you more often now."

Rangiku blinked, and then her head snapped around, her entire face brightening when she caught sight of Gin loitering at the entrance. Calling out a greeting, one that her childhood friend returned (with far less exuberance), Rangiku veered off and headed in his direction, pulling a flustered Fujiwara behind her.

Of course, Ichigo knew that at least half the reason for Gin's active presence amongst their small group – as of two and a half weeks ago – was Ichigo himself. Whatever orders Aizen had given him, the Third Seat evidently wanted to stick as close to Ichigo as possible. But there was no need for Rangiku to know that, and Ichigo knew that Gin appreciated spending time with her as well.

"You've trained them well," A voice remarked from behind him.

Ichigo glanced to the side as Koyonagi came to a stop on his right. "I train Fujiwara; I just gave Matsumoto a few tips. She's pretty good already."

Koyonagi inclined his head in concurrence, studying the two female Shinigami-in-training currently standing by the gates. "Still, even just a few months ago, Fujiwara-chan wouldn't have competed for anything, and Matsumoto-chan wouldn't have done nearly as well as she has right now."

Ichigo shrugged uncomfortably, not really knowing what to say. He eyed Koyonagi warily when the man turned a calculating gaze on him. "What?"

"Hmm," Koyonagi hummed speculatively, tone misleadingly light. "I wonder, Ichi-kun, just who taught you how to fight."

Ichigo stiffened subtly. "What do you mean? I've been learning at the Academy. I pick things up pretty quickly."

Koyonagi shot him a half amused, half reproachful look. "Both those things are true, but neither answers my question. You're a terrible liar, Ichi-kun, but again, someone's been good enough to teach you how to avoid lying outright. Someone who seems to know you fairly well."

Ichigo had to force himself to keep his breathing steady even as his heartbeat hammered in his chest. Too close; Koyonagi was too close.

The man in question chuckled softly. "You don't fight like any other student here; you don't even use a modified version of the fighting styles that the Academy teaches. You obviously didn't learn combat here. And watching Fujiwara-chan and Matsumoto-chan fight over the past week and a half, it's easy to see – if you know what to look for – that you've been instilling battle instincts into them instead of the standard tactics that are taught at the Academy. You're not just teaching them how to fight; you're teaching them how to win, how to survive.

"Which is a very good thing," Koyonagi assured. "But that's not what the school teaches, is it?"

Ichigo stared stonily ahead, brow creasing even further when Koyonagi grinned cunningly, patting Ichigo's shoulder. "Don't worry, Ichi-kun, I'm only curious. You're an enigma, and really the most interesting thing I've come across in decades, arguably centuries. I'm not looking to sell your secrets, just figure them out, that's all."

Ichigo wanted to shake the instructor. Figuring his secrets out was a _horrible_ idea. For _both_ of them.

"And while we're having this wonderfully one-sided conversation," Koyonagi continued serenely as he turned to leave, green eyes meeting Ichigo's hard gaze with easygoing mischief. "I should say, just for the record, I don't believe you have amnesia, Ichi-kun."

And still chortling quietly to himself, the instructor meandered away again, leaving a secretly panicking Ichigo behind.

Ichigo watched Koyonagi leave, dread pooling in his stomach as he imagined anything and everything that could go wrong if and when the instructor found out.

Because Koyonagi could be just as bullheaded as Ichigo if something caught his attention.

And it looked like Ichigo had caught it permanently for the foreseeable future.

Fuck.

**{4}**

"Taichou, _hurry_, or we'll miss it," Kaien urged, picking up his pace.

Ukitake looked somewhat exasperated but obligingly quickened his steps as well. Beside him, Kyouraku and Hirako looked equally amused.

Kaien just huffed. It had taken some time to work through all the paperwork so that they'd have a free afternoon but after Ichigo had – voluntarily, holy shit – told him that Fujiwara would be competing, Kaien had promised he would come watch if she made it to the finals. And of course, he had told his captain, who had told Kyouraku, who had been talking to Hirako at the time, so all three captains had decided to come along after bullshitting through their deskwork in record-breaking time (actually, that was just Kyouraku and Hirako; Kaien was pretty sure that Ukitake had never bullshitted anything in his entire life).

They rounded into the Academy, and Kaien ignored the instantaneous awareness and whispers that zeroed in on them. Three captains and a lieutenant were bound to attract notice.

As students parted like a wave in front of them, all bowing low before straightening to attention with awe and respect on their faces, Kaien searched for his cousin's bright hair. It was fortunate that Ichigo was fairly tall too.

"Ichigo!" Kaien waved, and he couldn't hide his exhilaration if his life depended on it when Ichigo glanced over without his usual fierce glower or curt brush-offs, nodding in a polite but almost friendly manner.

"Kaien," Ichigo's perpetual scowl actually softened a touch. "You made it."

His gaze flickered past him to the three captains. "Hirako-taichou, Kyouraku-taichou, Ukitake-taichou, good afternoon."

Ukitake smiled as the other two waved and nodded. "Hello, Ichigo-kun, you seem to be in a good mood today."

To Kaien's surprise, Ichigo's mouth curled up in a smirk, and he nodded towards the arena. "Fujiwara's holding her own."

Kaien swung around, and his jaw slackened for a second when he realized that the blurred figure wielding the katana with an elegance and expertise that some Shinigami officers would've been envious of was indeed his cousin's student.

She was still rough around the edges, still had a long way to go before she would become strong enough to be offered a senior officer rank. She seemed good enough for a junior one though, perhaps at Twelfth Seat level, maybe even Tenth.

Fujiwara was giving her all in this battle though. Her opponent was heavier-set and taller – not a hard feat – but she was using her superior speed and faster reflexes to counter the other student's longer-ranged strikes and brute strength.

"She has improved significantly," Ukitake remarked from beside Kaien. There was a quiet note of astounded amazement in his voice, and Kaien beamed with pride at the implied praise towards his cousin along with Fujiwara.

"Mm, she's getting there," Ichigo responded absently, arms crossed in front of his chest and wholly focused on his student. "She's still leaving her left side open; that's her biggest problem, and on the occasion that she overreaches..."

Kaien winced when Fujiwara did just that, and her opponent came in swinging from her left, a roundhouse kick slamming into her and successfully dislocating her shoulder.

"...that happens," Ichigo finished with a grimace of displeasure when Fujiwara couldn't quite suppress a cry of pain even as she hastily shunpoed away to a safer distance. For a moment, Kaien thought Ichigo looked like he dearly wanted to storm the arena and bash the male student's smirking face in.

Enthusiastic jeers echoed around the courtyard, all calling for the student – Hanamiya – to take Fujiwara down. Kaien frowned, glancing around. "Fujiwara... isn't that popular, I'm guessing? I mean this is a bit much even for a... erm, an illegitimate child."

"Fools, the lot of them," Ichigo scoffed, and even Kaien was startled by the amount of venom underlying his cousin's words. "What does lineage matter in the end? On the battlefield, when they're bleeding out on the ground, the only thing they'll be praying for will be that the person their life is in the hands of will be both an ally and competent enough to save their ass. I highly doubt they'd have enough wits about them to remember whether their fellow officers are proper nobles or bastard children or even Rukongai trash. Honestly, these idiots are only pissed 'cause Fujiwara's risen from last to one of the top twenty students in her year group."

A brief dumbfounded silence followed this vehement opinion as even the captains looked taken aback. Ichigo simply stared straight ahead, gaze tracking the ongoing fight in front of them and giving no sign that he had just stated a few of his ideals with frank and unapologetic aplomb.

"Ya definitely don't hold back," Hirako was the first to speak up, head tilted in a considering but appreciative manner. "Personally, I agree. Nice way of puttin' it too. I'd pay ta see ya rip inta one of those... 'idiots'."

Ichigo glanced back at the blond, amused and puzzlingly wistful at the same time before he smirked again in acknowledgement and turned away once more.

"And last to top twenty, you say?" Kyouraku commented offhandedly, and Kaien watched out of the corner of his eye as Ichigo seemed to straighten just a little at being addressed by this particular man.

Odd. It was near imperceptible but the instinctive and very genuine respect was there if you knew to look for it, and for some reason, Ichigo had given it to Kyouraku. Oh, he held the other captains with his own version of blunt regard too but there was just something... _more_ – just a bit – when it came to the Eighth Division captain.

"Yeah," Ichigo nodded (of course, _Ichigo's_ sort of respect didn't come with the typical bowing and deferential etiquette), turning to face Kyouraku. "History's giving her a bit of trouble so that's bringing her overall grade down, but her Zanjutsu and even Hakuda have improved a lot over the past three months, her Hohou is decent, and her Kidou's better than mine, so she's now near the top in all her combat classes."

Kyouraku tipped back his sakkat, studying Ichigo with thoughtful grey eyes before a leisure smile spread over his face. "Thank you."

Kaien blinked at this roundabout – and slightly vague – response, and then had to stifle a snicker at the flash of embarrassment flitting across Ichigo's features. His cousin shifted on the spot, discomfited and pleased at the same time.

_"You should just give up, runt!"_

Ichigo's head snapped back around so fast that Kaien was almost surprised that his cousin didn't give himself whiplash.

Up in the arena, Fujiwara seemed to waver at the taunt as it was carried throughout the crowd, and her blade dipped. A student – either another fifth-year or a sixth-year – prodded Hanamiya to take her down, pointing out her widening defense as her left elbow dropped an inch.

Hanamiya grinned maliciously and lunged. Fujiwara just managed to dodge, though her opponent's Zanpakutou sliced a line through the cloth of her uniform.

Gasping for breath and trying to balance her dislocated arm, Fujiwara's gaze darted past Hanamiya for a moment, bypassing Kaien and the captains as if she didn't even notice them.

Ichigo didn't say anything, staring back evenly with narrowed eyes and a challenge blazing within them.

It was always like that, Kaien realized, recalling the handful of times he had spied on their sparring sessions. Ichigo was always pushing Fujiwara, always challenging her to improve, daring her to get stronger.

And for some unknown reason, Fujiwara had always answered, even back when she had been that ridiculous shrinking violet of a girl.

This time was no different, and Kaien watched as Fujiwara's jaw firmed and her focus returned to her opponent, stance confrontational once more. Not even her shoulder or the blood trickling down her temple distracted her.

And then she struck.

Kaien's eyes widened as Fujiwara blurred in a flit of Shunpo once more, streaking towards Hanamiya like a gust of wind, blowing past him even as she raised her Zanpakutou and an upward arc. The battle started again, the two students clashing in a whirl of metal.

"Why isn't she using Kidou?" Ukitake enquired. "That is her strong suit, is it not?"

Ichigo grunted. "I told her not to. Zanjutsu, Hakuda, and Hohou only during this tournament."

Kaien did a double-take. "You _handicapped_ her?!"

His cousin glanced sharply at him. "Yes. She has improved in leaps and bounds after I started tutoring her, but a part of her's still holding back. But now she's made it to the _finals_ without Kidou. Granted, all her opponents have underestimated her; they all thought her wins have been flukes even after they saw her abilities with their own eyes. That's their problem; she should simply take full advantage of it. If she wins this tournament, it'll be a major boost for her confidence."

Kaien faltered. "But if she loses-"

"She won't," Ichigo cut him off adamantly.

Kaien frowned, still concerned. "But she could-"

"She won't," Ichigo repeated a second time, and the amount of conviction and faith in his expression was overwhelming. "She's my student; I know what she's capable of. I've helped her hone her skill; all she has to do now is believe in herself and not give up."

And Ichigo truly believed that, Kaien could tell. His cousin's certainty held a steel-like quality to it that seemed utterly indestructible. Maybe it wasn't so surprising then that Fujiwara was throwing every last scrap of determination she possessed into a mere school tournament. Disappointing someone who believed in you that much would not be a pleasant feeling.

Another roar of noise swelled amongst the audience as Fujiwara suddenly back-flipped away before shooting forward again, ignoring the glancing blow that her opponent delivered to her right ribs as she spun sideways and slammed her elbow into his solar plexus, making Hanamiya double over. But as she withdrew, and Kaien knew that all green Academy students were indirectly taught to pull back and wait for their opponent to recover, Ichigo interrupted.

"Follow through!" Ichigo's voice sliced through the clamour all around them like a knife through melted butter, sounding almost furious all of a sudden. "Don't you dare give him even an inch to advance! Finish your assault!"

And just like that, Fujiwara's instincts seemed to kick in, and her feet, instead of stepping backwards, twitched forward instead. She blew past Hanamiya's wheezing form, swiveling in place as she reappeared behind him.

Kaien knew how this was going to end.

In a lethal dance of metallic silver and swirling grace, Fujiwara pushed off of one foot and twisted in midair, bringing down the hilt of her sword to crack against the base of her opponent's skull, hard enough to knock him out and probably give him a mild concussion to boot.

Hanamiya dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, and Fujiwara landed several steps away, panting as she stared wide-eyed at the crumpled figure of her downed opponent.

Almost the entire courtyard fell into a staggered silence, so Kaien had no trouble hearing the hum of approval from Ukitake, or the low impressed whistle from Hirako, or even the contented huff from Kyouraku.

But it was Ichigo who caught Kaien's attention because there was a strange smile on his cousin's face, one he had never seen before, and it took a moment for him to identify the unspoken pride in the slightly crooked expression, as if Ichigo's face wasn't really used to accommodating smiles like that.

And then Ichigo was gone in a whoosh of flash-steps, breezing over the crowd and into the arena just as the referee stuttered out the battle's results and Fujiwara's adrenaline ran out. The girl swayed on her feet, but Ichigo caught her around the shoulders, his murmur of "well done; you should be proud" reached Kaien's ears without difficulty.

For such simple praise, Fujiwara looked more like Ichigo had just broken into raucous cheers. Her entire expression lit up like the sun.

Kaien glanced to his left when he heard the clapping start. Kyouraku was still smiling languidly, but there was no mistaking the admiration in his applause.

Kaien grinned and began clapping as well, followed by Ukitake and Hirako. He tried not to look too gleeful at the blanching faces on the other students as they hurried to do the same, all looking like throwing insults was the last thing on their to-do lists.

Fujiwara was receiving the open approval of three captains and a lieutenant, and she had done it all on her own merit; there was no better way to rub her fellow schoolmates' faces in the very real fact that she had bested them all.

**{4}**

"I'm so sorry I missed it!" Matsumoto wailed, all but smothering the still-recovering brunette in her arms. "Shiba-kun, you should've dumped a bucket of water on me to wake me up!"

Ichigo rolled his eyes from where he was leaning against the doorframe. "Then you would've complained that I messed up your hair or something."

Matsumoto huffed. "I wouldn't have! This is all your fault! I'm _depressed_ and it's all your fault! I would've felt better if I had seen Asuka-chan win!"

Ichigo snorted. "You finished second place; how can you be depressed? You did fine."

The blonde pouted unrepentantly. "Hah! Says the guy who could've taken the entire tournament blindfolded with one hand tied behind his back! You're not making me feel any better! I want food! Your punishment is to take me and Asuka-chan out for dinner! And you're footing the bill!"

Ichigo just shook his head instead of arguing. "I was already planning that. Shower, get changed; your boyfriend's got reservations for us at the sushi place down the street."

"_He's not my boyfriend!_"

Shunsui smothered a laugh as he watched Ichigo throw up his hands and stalk out of the room, closing the door behind him with a plaintive sigh. There was no real ire behind it though. Hell, Shunsui hadn't seen any of the usual tense irritation simmering underneath Ichigo's skin since he had caught sight of the younger Shiba earlier.

"Juu-chan was right," Shunsui commented from the piece of wall he had commandeered. "You're in a good mood today."

He waited as Ichigo surveyed him once before shrugging noncommittally. "Fujiwara won the tournament, and Kaien wasn't as annoying. That's a good day in my book."

He paused, cocking his head. "Was there something you needed, Taichou?"

Shunsui waved a hand. "Nah, just didn't quite feel like returning to my leftover paperwork yet. I'll be heading off now. Mind accompanying me to the gates?"

Ichigo blinked in obvious mystification but nodded all the same, falling into step beside Shunsui as they headed down the hall.

"Given my offer any thought?" Shunsui prodded idly as they ambled outside.

Ichigo arched an eyebrow. "There _are_ others, you know, maybe not as... capable as I am, but still talented."

Shunsui quirked a grin. "Oh don't worry, I will put in a request for Matsumoto-chan as well. I wouldn't mind having her in my squad too."

Ichigo actually rolled his eyes at this (fearless, really; people like Kuchiki would've written him up for that alone). "If she complains about harassment, Taichou, I'm gonna be pissed. And Fujiwara adores her so she'll give you those disappointed doe-eyes and you'll feel horrible afterwards."

Shunsui couldn't help the huff of laughter that escaped him. He had congratulated his cousin earlier, and while her greeting of "good evening, Shunsui-nii-sama" had been shy, there hadn't been so much as a quaver in her voice, and she had even exchanged some small talk with him without the conversation dwindling into meek silence on her end with Shunsui doing all the talking.

He didn't think Ichigo knew just how grateful Shunsui was when it came to Asuka these days.

Which was part of the reason why he was still pushing. Teaching the bright-haired Shiba and taking him under his wing was a good way to repay the boy.

"You didn't answer my question," He prompted out loud as they drew even with the gates.

Ichigo glanced at him, and then gazed out down the street at the rest of the city. "...I've thought about it, Taichou, but..."

Shunsui eyed the younger Shinigami for a long moment before sighing ruefully. He couldn't say he hadn't seen this coming, or noticed it at least. "You've taken a liking to Hirako, hmm?"

Ichigo scratched his head and offered another nonchalant shrug. It looked a bit forced this time.

"Well, I'll keep asking until the deadline," Shunsui said cheerfully, choosing not to ask what Hirako had done to make Ichigo's favourites list when they had only interacted a handful of times. From what he had seen of the kid's interactions with Kaien, Ichigo wouldn't answer anyway. For such a straightforward person, the younger Shinigami was very good at deflecting. "I should warn you though – Hirako can be a handful. Just ask Aizen-kun..."

Everything stopped, just for a fraction of a second, and Shunsui zoomed in on the abruptly darkened expression staring back at him, shadows skulking through the kid's eyes like haunting ghosts.

Ichigo's features smoothed over again in the blink of an eye, but Shunsui knew what he had seen.

"I'm sure I'm up to the challenge," Ichigo shot back, voice slightly strained.

They bid each other goodnight soon after that, but Shunsui couldn't stop a frown from creasing his brow as soon as he had turned a corner.

Did Ichigo know Aizen? Know something _about_ Aizen? Something implicating?

And if so, would that mean that Aizen knew something about Ichigo? Something potentially harmful to the young Shiba?

Shunsui's frown deepened as he tugged his sakkat down. He would have to keep a closer eye on Aizen from now on, no matter how confident Hirako was about being able to take care of his lieutenant problem by himself.

And perhaps it was time to dig a little into Aizen's pastimes. Just to make sure the seemingly genial lieutenant wasn't a danger to Ichigo.

Because from what Shunsui had heard, not even Kaien knew where Ichigo had been or what he had gone through before Kaien had saved him.

Amnesia and torture-inflicted injuries didn't come from nowhere after all.

* * *

**Please leave a review on your way out.**

**Holy shit, that was long. NEVER AGAIN. Don't think I can manage another chapter this length.**


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